


Ghostbound

by mercyandmagic



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Crack and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 52
Words: 147,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/pseuds/mercyandmagic
Summary: Kurapika’s plan to recover his clan’s eyes falls apart when he’s roped into Gon, Killua, and Leorio’s efforts to thwart Illumi and Hisoka’s deadly engagement. Unfortunately, his assistance soon lands him in the web of a particular Spider. Kurokura, Hisoillu, Killugon. Come for the crack, stay for the angst.





	1. An Improper Engagement

**Chapter One**

**An Improper Engagement**

 

Kalluto Zoldyck has sensed his brother’s nen since before boarding the _Black Whale_. Still, he was expecting Illumi to swoop in when he’s alone, to lecture him about the dangers of the dark continent they’re heading towards and the sin of abandoning his family.

He was not expecting Illumi to interfere with Kalluto’s own partners, the infamous thieves, the Phantom Troupe.

And he certainly was not expecting Illumi to speak the words that came out of his mouth.

“Illumi, please introduce yourself and lend us your thoughts on what Hisoka’s up to,” says Chrollo Lucilfer, zeroth member of the Spider and the leader that, until now, Kalluto respected.

Chrollo’s eyes flicker with guilt, like they have since Hisoka killed his friends.

Kalluto doesn’t think anyone else notices, but he does. And Illumi does. Because they’re Zoldycks, and as part of their family assassination training, they’re trained in reading people’s expressions.

Illumi waves his hand. “I don’t have much information since we’re in the middle of a game, after all.”

Kalluto’s ears perk up. _Game_ is Zoldyck shorthand for assassination.

“Kalluto and Killua are my younger brothers.” A moment of pride shines on Illumi’s face, and Kalluto almost forgives his brother his presence.

“I’ve joined on Hisoka’s request. He and I always thought we would kill the other in the end, and I’m here to make this reality. Basically, Hisoka has contracted me to kill him.” Illumi’s eyes glitter. “For our engagement ring, he gave me a pre-nup where even if he dies, I still get his inheritance.”

Illumi surveys the room, as if he were discussing the weather and not his private life. “Hisoka and I are very serous about this, so I don’t know where he is.”

Machi Komacine, the nen stitcher with party-pink hair and one of the friendlier smiles, tries not to laugh.

“Finally,” she whispers to the small but deadly Feitan Pordor. Feitan does not acknowledge her.

Phinks, a man whose strength is bigger than his brain, meanwhile, just looks confused.

Kalluto’s eyes flicker to Chrollo. Their leader’s face, ashen since Hisoka’s murder of a defenseless Kortopi and Shalnark, remains expressionless.

“Hey. This table is taken. Move it.” A bearded man approaches the troupe. No doubt he sees the spiders as bunch of misfits and Kalluto as another silly, kimono-wearing kid.

“We’re using it right now,” Chrollo says calmly.

“Nope. You’re the Phantom Troupe, aren’t you?” The man crosses his arms. “You completely destroyed the mafia in Yorknew City. We’re indebted to you, but I need you to move for business.”

Chrollo doesn’t hesitate, as per usual. He stands. “Very well, then.”

Kalluto studies the leader’s face. He looks decidedly unhappy when reminded of Yorknew City, of his infamous capture at the hands of Kurapika of the Kurta clan, at his decision against killing the traitor Hisoka immediately.

Once the Troupe is alone, Chrollo spins around to face his spiders. He clenches his fist, and he looks like the Chrollo of old. “I want a party. But there’s no cake. We need a centerpiece. Once we meet up again, I want to eat at a table with all of you. So … bring me Hisoka’s head.”

The group disperses, but not before Kalluto has sent Illumi his angriest glare.

“What?” Illumi sounds puzzled.

“Leave me alone,” Kalluto mutters, shoving Illumi out of his way and racing for his cabin like the ten year old he is.

Is this real? Is Kalluto’s brother truly engaged?

And how could Chrollo not tell him this? Kalluto wants to scream. Their leader is powerful, yes, and charismatic, and seems to care about them, but he knows how Kalluto feels about his family.

_This is not the brother I wanted to save._

_Well, to be fair, I didn’t think he needed to be saved._

Ten years old might be a bit young to care for a family, but Mom and Dad and Grandpa sure aren’t going to, and Milluki only cares about himself. Killua’s run off, and Alluka suffers his possession alone.

And Kalluto wants to save Alluka.

“Kalluto,” Illumi calls, racing after, but the youngest Zoldyck had already slammed the door to his cabin.

Kalluto locks his door, fuming to himself.

Who is he kidding? Illumi doesn’t care about Kalluto. He cares about Killua, only Killua, and maybe now Hisoka. That perverted clown isn’t even family!

But Hisoka will be family if Illumi’s words were at all serious.

And, truthfully, Kalluto hasn’t ever heard Illumi joke. So he wouldn’t know if his brother were joking.

He yanks out his laptop and pounds Killua’s email address into the keyboard.

 

* * *

 

Gon is supposed to be doing schoolwork like a normal boy, unable to use his aura. Instead, he’s daydreaming about what he wants to do with life, but no possibility really appeals. He found his father. What else is there?

Well, he supposes daydreaming is rather normal, too. He closes his eyes and listens to the gentle breeze that always blows from the sea here on Whale Island.

Gon frowns. Someone is running from Aunt Miko’s house.

“Gon!” Killua appears, racing up to his friend, heart pounding, gagging almost as if he’s been poisoned. But of course he hasn’t, because Gon knows Killua is immune to poison.

“What’s wrong?” Gon clutches Killua’s sweating hands. Behind her big brother, Alluka Zoldyck watches Gon with wide eyes.

“Merp! Blech! Merb!” Killua blurts out nonsense words.

“Huh?”

“Look!” Killua finally seethes, shoving his laptop into Gon’s hands.

“Huh?” Gon repeats, but he dutifully opens it. His eyes land on an email from Kalluto.

 

**_Subject_ ** _: Family emergency (if you still care)._

_Illumi is engaged to Hisoka. Their prenup is a death contract._

_Illumi has even joined the PT to see this through._

_You need to stop them. Illumi will listen to you. Unlike me. Please come quickly._

_We’re on the Black Whale bound for the Dark Continent. I’m sure you’ll find a way to board._

_xo Kalluto_

_P.S. If you tell Mom and Dad, I’ll skin you._

 

Gon stares at Killua, whose face is now as white as his hair.

 _Illumi…engaged…_ Hisoka?!

“Help,” Killua squeaks.

“Are we sure this is really Kalluto?” Gon asks feebly.

“He referenced skinning. Mom and Dad used to do that sometimes when we disobeyed,” Killua mused. “I think it’s really him.”

“Okay.” Gon acts like that’s perfectly normal, though he’s certain it isn’t and certain it’s wrong. “But – Illumi has to know if he marries Hisoka, there’s no Zoldyck babies! It has to be a joke, right?”

Gon rubs his head. At least, he’s been told you need a man and a woman for babies. However that works.

“No, because he’s going to kill Hisoka, or Hisoka will kill him. He can marry someone and still later make Zoldyck babies.” Killua balls his hands into fists, shoving the thought of _Illumi_ and _babies_ far from his beleaguered brain. “If that creepy clown hurts Illumi – no, I’m sure Illumi’s stronger.”

“But then Hisoka will die,” Gon says, with a twinge of sorrow in his voice.

“He’s an ass.” Killua scowls at Gon’s miserable aura. Alluka narrows her eyes at Killua, too. “You’re right, I know.”

“Do you think,” Gon says slowly, “That Hisoka is to Illumi what you are to me?”

“What?” Killua cringes. Marry Gon? No. Yes. _No_ , he’s just a kid. But they are good friends…

“I can’t imagine wanting to kill you,” Gon says, “but what if this is just their way of asking for help?”

“Even if it isn’t, they still need help.” Killua curses. “Ugh, sorry Alluka. I just don’t want to see him!”

“Are you going?” Gon’s eyes widen. “We’re going, right?”

He’s useless without his nen, but hey, he’s still useful as a friend, right? Right?

“Yeah, just give me a moment to plan how we rent a speedboat…” Killua rubs his forehead. _Milluki_ jumps into his mind, though he’s unsure whether or not Milluki can be trusted to keep this from their parents.

“Say, isn’t Kurapika on the Black Whale?” Gon frowns. “And the spiders, too?”

Killua’s mouth opens and closes. “Damn it.”

Alluka giggles, and Killua sulks at his potty mouth.

“I’ll email Kurapika and just tell him to keep watch for Illumi or Hisoka. I’m sure he wouldn’t hurt them, if they weren’t part of the Troupe that killed his clan,” Gon says.

“I’m not sure of much from Kurapika anymore,” Killua says. Gon gulps.

“What about Alluka?” He nods towards the little girl.

“Aw, you’re right.” Killua stomps his foot. “I’ll ask Leorio to take her.”

Alluka’s mouth drops open. “What?!”

“Wouldn’t it be better if she comes? Nanika is from the dark continent, right? Maybe we can cure her.” Gon winks at Alluka, who relaxes.

Killua’s heart leaps. This is why Gon is his best friend. He’s always looking out for Killua, and Killua for him. “She’ll like the trip.”

“So will Leorio. We can invite him too. I think it’s best to have more than less,” Gon adds.

Despite his dismay, Killua feels a smile emerge. “My thoughts exactly.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, Illumi is _what_?” Safe at home in the Zoldyck mansion, Milluki shovels more potato chips into his mouth as his only comfort mechanism. Oh, forget it.

This news means it’s alcohol time.

Milluki holds the phone in one hand as he shuffles over to the bottle of red wine he keeps hidden behind his action figures. It’s cheap and Mom would despise him for drinking it, but he genuinely likes the shitty flavor.

Milluki pops off the cork and gulps straight from the bottle. “So Mr. Family is gay. I didn’t expect that.”

“Is that really what you should be thinking about?” Killua asks dryly.

Milluki shrugs, not caring that Killua can’t see him. He’s long suspected Killua and Gon’s relationship, but not Illumi’s. Maybe because he didn’t know Illumi even had any friends.

“Anyways, you heard me. Now, are you gonna help me or not?” Killua demands.

“I’m gonna help,” Milluki mutters. “I’ll wire a million Jenny into your account, okay?”

“Okay,” says Killua. A girl laughs in the background.

“Is that Alluka?”

“Oh, yes. She’s coming. Family first, you know.” There’s no mistaking the sarcasm in Killua’s voice.

Well, color Milluki surprised. Although there is some irony in the weak Alluka saving the brother who tried to kill her.

“…Keep her safe,” Milluki says quietly. For whatever his word is worth.

 

* * *

 

“The Spiders are here?” Kurapika leaps to his feet. His cabin is small, but he glows with vengeance.

Chrollo Lucilfer is here. And unlike in Yorknew City, his friends are not here. He can kill that greasy-haired scum without hesitation.

“Don’t get all excited,” Leorio says, as Killua’s disembodied voice floats through the phone.

“See, this is why I didn’t want to call him.”

Kurapika shoves aside the memories of those he’s threatened and ruined to retrieve the scarlet eyes. They ought to have thought about it before dabbling in the products of murder.

He doesn’t really believe that, not entirely, but it helps slowly his anxiety for now.

“The point is that we’re going to pirate our way aboard to stop Hisoka and Illumi’s engagement. Can you hide us?”

Kurapika raises his eyebrows. Well, as long as he keeps the Spiders from seeing his friends, he should be fine killing Chrollo. “Yes, but you should know the Kurkin family is having a murder contest for their succession. It could be dangerous.”

“What is it with all these murder families?” Leorio bursts out.

“The world is terrible,” Kurapika says dully, staring at himself in the mirror like a bad cliché. His eyes, brown for the moment, are red-rimmed with misery.

“That doesn’t sound like the Kurapika I know.” Now Leorio sounds concerned.

Kuapika shivers. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, really. The important thing is helping my friends. And completing my quest.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that.” Leorio sighs. “Well, now’s not the time for that conversation. We’ll see you soon.”

Kurapika hangs up before he can explode. He’s always been blunt about his intent – to recover the scarlet eyes gouged from his brethren, and to end the Phantom Troupe. Why does he feel like his friends judge him for it?

He’s not giving up, not now when he is literally _on the same ship_ as them.

There’s a voice that niggles in the back of his mind, telling him he’s only self-conscious because he too did not know the exact price of his goal. Because he’s going to drive himself to a poetic death to join his brethren, and Kurapika doesn’t care – in fact, he even anticipates it.

Melody’s voice echoes in his head as she regarded the chained leader of the Spiders. _He is not afraid. He walks side-by-side with death every day_.

Kurapika shudders.

Because he and Chrollo? They’re not alike at all.

His phone rings again. “Hello?”

“I forgot to say,” says Gon’s earnest, ever-welcome voice. “Don’t go after them yourself. Please.”

"Of course,” Kurapika lies.

Because like hell is he waiting.


	2. Trespassers

 

 

**Chapter Two**

**Trespassers**

 

Kurapika marches towards the most common meeting areas. Just to scout.

Maybe he can even make contact with Kalluto first. Let him know there’s an ally, of sorts, already aboard the _Black Whale_.

Maybe he can kill all the other members, excepting Illumi, and then all their problems will be solved.

Kurapika grimaces to himself. He knows he’s rationalizing bullshit right now. He’ll be lucky if he can kill one member before his friends arrive. But he has to occupy his mind with something lest he explode.

The Spiders are so close, and he had no idea, and the shame consumes him.

The narrow halls open wide to a room filled with tables of people meeting. Probably planning the slaughter of whoever is unfortunate enough to inhabit the Dark Continent.

Kurapika has no intentions of allowing that – or of living past this, but then he’ll rejoin his clan. Mom and Dad will embrace him, right?

For someone who pines often for the Kurtas, he doesn’t much like thinking about the individual members. His heart hurts too much. That must be why.

He feels someone’s eyes following him. A quick glance reveals a bearded man very obviously averting his gaze.

Kurapika doesn’t recognize his aura. Maybe the man is just surprised to see someone clad in the robes of a dead tribe.

No spiders here. Kurapika returns, dejected, to his cabin.

* * *

 

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Leorio asks as he gapes at the _Black Whale_. The four of them are so waterlogged and salted from Leorio’s reckless speed boating, they might as well be sacks of conscious meat.

“No,” Killua says flatly. “But it’s our only idea.”

“It’s cute,” Alluka says, smiling at the ship.

Gon isn’t so sure, but he busies himself buzzing Kurapika’s phone.

“Room 420, is it?” Leorio says, pulling alongside the ship.

A chain shoots out of the bare air to wrap around Gon’s waist. He has to laugh as he’s lifted higher and higher into a room near the top of the ship.

“Kurapika!” He reaches out with his salted hands to grab his friend in a hug as Kurapika sends forth another chain, this time around Alluka.

“Nice to meet you, Kurapika,” Alluka says politely as soon as she’s wrestled inside the cabin. “Thank you for sneaking us on.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurapika says, hoisting Killua in next. “I’m glad to see you, too, Alluka.”

Her face turns pink, because Alluka is not used to people smiling at her. Especially not a very pretty boy.

“Save me for last, as always, Kurapika?” teases Leorio when he’s finally inside.

“Shh. We’re in Queen Oito’s chambers, since they have a window. The last thing I need is the queen disturbed, what with the succession contest and all,” says Kurapika.

“Of course.” Leorio lowers his voice. “Shall we go back to your cabin?”

“Well, we’re not staying in the Queen’s quarters,” Kurapika replies.

“Darn,” quips Leorio. “Say, I’ve heard she’s young…”

Kurapika punches him in his stomach. “That’s my bodyguard duty at work, Leorio.”

“Good, good,” rasps Leorio. “I was just testing it.”

Alluka frowns as Kurapika hustles them to the cabin directly across from Queen Oito’s. “Oh no, we got you all wet.”

“It’s really fine,” says Kurapika, locking his door. He flicks salt off his shoulders. “I’ll show you the showers later. They’re tiny, but they work well.”

“Reminds me of when we first met, eh, Gon, Kurapika?” Leorio nudges the two. “Though this ship is larger.”

Gon giggles. “Yes!”

Kurapika is quiet. Because back then he hadn’t really known the despairing price of rage. The resignation to his own death at the end of his quest.

He’s more bothered, actually, that his death doesn’t bother him. That it seems inevitable and he has no will to fight it.

That’s why he doesn’t really want to see his friends. But there’s not much he can do for now.

“Did you go after them?” Killua asks point-blank.

“I merely looked around for their locations before realizing that Kalluto will tell us anyways.” Kurapika shrugs.

Gon growls, and Kurapika makes a point to ignore it.

* * *

 

Chrollo Lucilfer flips through the latest book he’s stolen. An ancient copy of _The Odyssey_ from one of the slain Kakin family members.

He doesn’t really care. Even though the cover is embossed with gold, and the text is ornate and the pages in flawless condition, he finds no joy in it.

He misses Shalnark and Kortopi.

Especially Kortopi. He found them in the dumpsters of Meteor City, after tracking the source of fake ice cream from the children that relied on him for storytelling all the way across the city. Kortopi was making copy after copy of food to give to the kids so they wouldn’t feel hungry.

So he convinced Feitan to rob a store to give Kortopi some real food. Not that any food in Meteor City is ever good, or expensive, but to the starving, filthy swarms of people in its ranks, everything edible is expensive and everything edible is good.

He kinda viewed Kortopi as a little sibling. And, if Chrollo Lucilfer is being entirely honest, which he rarely is, he blames himself for borrowing their powers, rendering them defenseless before Hisoka.

He should have protected them more, instead of reveling in copy-making.

He usually likes the feeling of greed, but not now. Not even with an ancient book in his hand.

He places the book under his pillow – it’s a well-kept secret in the Phantom Troupe that he needs a book under his pillow to sleep – and slips outside his cabin.

Chrollo doesn’t have to look far to find the man who identified him yesterday.

“You.” The man shivers involuntarily. “I haven’t seen any more books of value, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

“I’m not asking about that. Any news on Hisoka?” Chrollo sighs.

“Well, to be honest…” The man hesitates. “There was a lanky young man with a distinctly unpleasant aura asking for descriptions that sounded like your Troupe.”

“Oh?”

“He works as a bodyguard for Queen Oito.”

Hisoka? A bodyguard? Chrollo tries not to chuckle. “I see.”

“I can direct you towards the Queen’s chambers if you wish. It may be difficult to gain access without me,” says the man, clearly brimming with pride that he’s able to assist the renowned Spider.

“Yes, please,” Chrollo says, as polite as ever.

* * *

 

 _A man with an unpleasant aura_ …Chrollo keeps his footsteps light as he creeps into the showers.

Killing Hisoka in the showers would be most humiliating. And the blood will be washed away, a nice metaphor that Chrollo isn’t sure fits for Hisoka, but he’ll find a way to say it does.

There’s only one shower running. Perfect.

Chrollo raises his Ben’s knife. He wants to paralyze Hisoka first, without nen, for one final blow to his pride before killing him.

He doesn’t hesitate as soon as he reaches the curtain. After all, he’s beaten Hisoka before. And this time, he’ll kill him properly. For Shalnark and Kortopi.

Chrollo yanks open the curtain.

“What the –”

For a moment, he and the man with an unpleasant aura gape at each other.

The man who is definitely not Hisoka, the man with scarlet eyes, the man who chained his nen, the man who killed Uvogin and whom Chrollo thought was a girl at first – although now Chrollo knows he’s definitely not.

“You!” They each shout.

Kurapika of the Kurta Clan lurches backwards. Chains shoot forward, and Chrollo narrowly dodges.

 _Of all inconveniences_. This brat must be here to hunt them down again. He won’t let this happen.

 _Unless he’s working with Hisoka_ –

“You bastard!” Kurapika swings a chain towards his heart, but Chrollo easily neutralizes it with Fun Fun Cloth.

“If you’d stop fighting I’d offer it to cover yourself,” he can’t resist mocking.

Kurapika’s eyes glow red. They look like radioactive rubies, and for a moment Chrollo’s breath is taken away, just like it was the first time he saw the Scarlet Eyes and decided he had to have them.

A bolt of electricity shoots towards Chrollo, who ducks.

“Seriously, in the shower?” Killua Zoldyck’s eyes bore into him.

“How did he get in?” Gon’s unmistakable voice cuts through the tension.

Kurapika squeaks as his friends pile into the bathing room.

Chrollo sighs. Killing all of them, when they’re connected to Hisoka, would just be silly. Again.

The tall one – Leorio, if Chrollo recalls – shoves a towel towards Kurapika.

A little girl clings to Killua. “Why are you trying to hurt Kurapika? He’s nice.”

“This is a very dangerous, very wicked man,” Kurapika says gently. “A devil, of sorts.”

“Who are you?” Chrollo asks her. _A devil, of sorts_. He will take it as a compliment.

“Alluka Zoldyck,” she says as Killua snaps, “Don’t talk to her!”

“And I’m Nanika!” says the girl again.

Chrollo starts. Her eyes are now completely black, and a strange grin rests on her face.

“We share Alluka’s body,” says Nanika blissfully.

“Nanika,” Killua can’t resist adding, “is stronger than you, nen thief.”

Chrollo’s eyebrows are sliding up his forehead. “I see. None of you seem surprised to see me. Well, excepting the naked Kurapika.”

Kurapika clenches his fists, but Gon holds up a hand. For now.

“I got a terrible email from Kalluto.” Killua glares at Chrollo. “Just what kind of engagement is my brother involved in?”

“Which brother?” Chrollo can’t resist.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“We are all here to kill Hisoka. I needn’t say more.” And Chrollo won’t say more, because he doesn’t want to admit they’re down two members.

“Is Hisoka here?” Gon asks.

“Almost certainly.” Chrollo smirks at Kurapika. “Though now there are at least two people on this ship with frightening auras.”

Kurapika’s face pales. He’s not like Hisoka. Not at all.

“You look guilty,” Chrollo purrs.

“That’s rich, coming from you, mass murderer.” Kurapika’s eyes feel like flamethrowers.

Chrollo’s facial expression barely changes. Not even Killua can pick up on any discomfort.

He doesn’t like the label, sure, but it is true. And he doesn’t hate what’s true. It just is. And he doesn’t really know why he doesn’t like it not change it, but then it’s not something that can really ever change, and he’s not ready to think more on this subject, thank you very much.

As long as Chrollo can keep conquering, keep dancing on the edges of death with his friends, his family – no, his body, the spider – he wants for nothing in this life.

Except for now. Now he wants Hisoka’s head, because he hurt the Troupe and by hurting the troupe, he hurt Chrollo.

“I think he’s nice.” Alluka reaches out to stroke Chrollo’s coat. “It’s squishy.”

“Alluka’s spent most of her life around mass murderers, I suppose,” Kurapika muses.

Killua’s face pinches, and Chrollo shakes his head. Of all human traits he finds sanctimony most fascinating. And repelling.

Kurapika winces once his words register. “Killua, I didn’t mean –”

“I know,” Killua says, his voice tired. “That’s a discussion for another day.”

“For today,” says Gon, “we’d rather the two of you not fight.”

“Or?” Chrollo prods.

“Or I’ll electrocute you,” Killua says breezily.

“And if your friend does fight me?”

“We’ll electrocute him. More mildly than you, of course, and Leorio will use his medical knowledge to treat him unlike you, but still.” Killua crosses his arms.

“But if you leave now, we won’t.”

“That’s all?” Chrollo ponders this. On one hand, the chain user’s head would inspire the Spiders. On the other, he doesn’t really want to piss off Kalluto and Illumi’s brother.

And he wants to know more about this Nanika.

“Don’t tell Illumi we’re here.” Killua swallows. “He’ll know soon enough.”

“I see.” Chrollo deduces that their mission has something to do with turning Illumi into another traitor to the Spiders, but Illumi is more of a manipulator than a trickster at heart. He will not be easily swayed.

“Deal?” Gon holds out his hand.

“One condition. If you hear anything about Hisoka Morow, you tell us.” Chrollo waits.

“I … I suppose that’s okay,” says Killua.

“But they want to kill him!” Leorio bursts out. “How is that okay?”  
            “We’ll pass on enough information to keep the Troupe from being killed by him, and not enough for you to kill him,” Killua explains.

“Deal,” Chrollo says smoothly, taking Gon’s hand.

He frowns. Usually he feels nen in a user’s hand. In Gon’s, he feels nothing.

Gon pulls his hand back when Chrollo holds it a bit too long, and then Leorio and Killua and Alluka are shaking his hand. Kurapika, naturally, refuses.

He shudders to himself. Chrollo is taking a raw deal for his Troupe, just like Pakunoda did, just as if they were friends and not serial killer rats banded together, writhing for survival. In his mind, Kurapika does not like to lend them even a shadow of humanity.

“Kurapika, _please_ agree,” Gon begs. To be honest, he wants Chrollo to live not just to spare Kurapika more pain, but also because Chrollo is someone who lost his nen and regained it. Granted, through differing circumstances, but he wants to talk to Chrollo all the same. Even if Chrollo is a nasty killer – well, Killua was, too. People change. And Gon wants to talk to him.

“You know you aren’t in a position to negotiate with the Spiders, and they might be useful,” Killua adds.

Kurapika sighs. “I know you are good friends.”

“So were mine,” Chrollo says quietly.

Kurapika glares at him. He won’t think further on this swine’s whining.

“One last thing.” Kurapika grabs the showerhead and turns it up full blast, spraying freezing water all over Chrollo.

His fluffy coat sinks into his shoulders, but otherwise, Chrollo merely raises his eyebrows again.

“Now it’s soggy,” Kurapika taunts. His comments and hatred flail about him like a most ineffective weapon. Killua tries not to laugh, but Gon just feels sad.

“I did not expect you to be this petty, Kurapika,” Chrollo says dryly. He wipes back his hair to its old slicked position.

“Ugh,” Kurapika mutters. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too,” Chrollo says evenly.

The room is silent.

“Well, then there’s only one better places to go from hatred.” Alluka claps her hands.

Kurapika’s face twists, and Chrollo finds himself almost amused. The Zoldyck child, at least, is entertaining.

And he’s going to steal her power.


	3. Heartskips

**Chapter Three**

**Heartskips**

 

“Damn Kalluto hasn’t responded to my email yet,” Killua complains as the five friends stuff themselves into Kurapika’s cabin. Oops, another curse. Well, Alluka’s on a boat; she might was well accustom herself to sailor talk.

“It’s been, like, five minutes,” Leorio objects. “He’s probably busy pretend-hunting for Hisoka. Or evading Illumi. Both are full-time jobs.”

“Kurapika sir, why don’t you like Chrollo? I think he’s pretty.” Alluka nods at Kurapika.

Kurapika’s shoulders slump.

Leorio speaks quickly. “He…stole something from him. Something he can’t give back.”

“You can just say it,” Killua encourages.

“He slaughtered my entire family,” Kurapika says. “And clan. Just to steal our Scarlet Eyes.”

Alluka’s mouth falls open. “That’s so mean.”

Kurapika titters. “Yes, yes it is.”

She wraps her arms around Kurapika, around this pretty boy. “I’m glad they didn’t steal your eyes.”

Kurapika swallows. How long as it been since someone’s hugged him? Upon first learning of his pain?

“Me too,” Kurapika says slowly, patting the child’s hair.

Killua groans at his still-empty inbox.

“That’s it. Is no one going to say it?” Gon bursts out.

“Say what?” Killua looks at his best friend, for once completely confused.

“Does Illumi even have any feelings? Doesn’t your entire plan rest on that? When have we seen him care about anyone really, except maybe you?” Gon stomps his foot.

Truthfully, he isn’t just worried about Illumi and Hisoka’s shenanigans. He’s worried because he wants to speak with Chrollo. A murderer. “And now we’ve made a deal with Chrollo Lucilfer! We’re already compromising. What if this whole thing ends in disaster?”

The room is silent. To Kurapika’s own surprise, he hears his voice break the stiff pause.

“Maybe it still ends in Hisoka dying,” Kurapika says, “But I think it would be best if Killua’s brother is not the one to do it. I think it would be best if Illumi does not kill his friend. And even that marginal improvement might be worth it.”

Killua nods firmly.

“Maybe they’ll just get married,” Alluka says. “And then Illumi won’t hate me anymore.”

“I’m just here to be useful to my friends. That’s worth it for me.” Leorio shrugs.

“Aren’t you always?” Kurapika jokes. It’s his first joke in a long while.

Leorio beams at him, and Kurapika feels proud, almost like when he was a child and helped Mother cook. She would praise him for it. He hasn’t been praised in a long time.

Gon sighs. “I know. I just…I’m worried. But I will help you, Killua, forever You know I will.”

“I never doubted,” Killua says with a smile. “But there is one way to tell about Illumi. Kurapika, is Melody aboard?”

Kurapika smiles slightly. He feels useful and he likes feeling useful. Like he’s helping instead of hurting. Even though his quest helps his dead brethren, and it’s worth hurting the opulent traders for it, right? “She’s already on her way.”

* * *

 

The _Black Whale_ rolls from side to side. The splashes of waves, the creak of steel against iron, the gasps of ill people and the song of silence in the open sea combine to form a symphony in Melody’s ears.

It’s a symphony more beautiful, and perhaps more lonely, than the Devil’s Symphony.

Because gaping loneliness is felt by almost everyone aboard, despite the crowds, and she is powerless to stop it. So she’ll do what she can. Help the one friend she has, the friend who walks with death every day.

 Just when Melody thinks she and Kurapika have enough to worry over, the little rage machine finds out his friends are coming because the Spiders are aboard.

 Well, at least the friends are here. Melody’s not sure she can keep her friend in check all by herself.

 But she knows it won’t be long before Kurapika asks her to find the Spiders by heartbeat.

So that’s why she’s here. Looking for heartbeats that echo Killua’s. If his brothers are here, after all, it’s best to start with them.

And they’re not difficult to find, even with Chrollo’s vague directions. Melody can discern their heartbeats, which sound eerily similar to Killua’s. The heavier one is mildly more jumpy, despite Killua describing the opposite.

Melody busies herself outside the youngest Zoldyck’s door. How fascinating, her phone. The mechanics’ hum is barely audible.

 “I don’t understand your problem,” says an impossibly smooth voice, with just a mild touch of surprise. If Melody didn’t know he was an assassin, she would convince him to be a singer.

“You’re engaged to a killer, and you’re following me,” snaps a child. His voice is red with rage.

 “It’s a death contract. I enjoy it.” There’s no lie in the eldest’s heart. Illumi. Ironic for someone denied enlightenment.

“Was it not enough for you to control Killua? You have to control me, too?” exclaims the child. Kalluto, if Melody recalls correctly, and she usually does.

“No. Evidently it was not enough, because no one can control Killua, and he’s out there with that thing masquerading as our brother,” Illumi says.

Kalluto groans. “You’re hopeless, big brother.”

“How so?” Illumi sounds genuinely confused.

“Forget it. Just leave. Go kill your fiancé. See if I cry.”

“Mom and Dad taught us to stop crying at six months. You stopped in five,” Illumi recites.

“I think you should leave,” Kalluto repeats. There’s an edge to his voice. A dangerous edge that catches Melody off-guard.

“Wait,” says Kalluto suddenly. “Do you love Hisoka?”

“I enjoy a challenging job,” Illumi the Dark says, his hand twisting the doorknob. He’s not lying, not exactly, but his heart skips a beat when Hisoka’s name is mentioned.

It’s enough to convince Melody that their plan is not entirely hopeless.

 

* * *

 

Kalluto’s relieved when Illumi leaves his room at last. One more minute, and he might have killed Illumi before Hisoka could.

 His door opens again, and Kalluto flies at the entrance. “I told you to leave me alone!”

A flash of electricity knocks him back. “Guess again.”

“Killua?” Kalluto’s eyes widen. He is almost happy to see his brother.

 “Me, and Gon, and Leorio, and Kurapika, and Alluka. Oh, and Melody. She found you because you stopped answering email,” Killua says, waving his friends in.

“Alluka!” Kalluto waves at his brother. He’s too frozen to do anything else. Though, from the size of the room, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“Kalluto.” Alluka beams at him, pure sunshine on her face.

“You rescued him from Illumi, I heard.” Kalluto waits.

“Her,” Killua says automatically. “Alluka is a girl.”

  “Are you wearing my old dress?” Alluka studies Kalluto’s kimono.

“No.”

“You are!” Alluka puts her hands on her hips.

“I am not! I designed my own and based it off yours, if you must know,” Kalluto admits, his face red.

 “I love it!” Alluka shoves Leorio into Gon to hug Kalluto.

Kalluto feels panic bubble up within him. Is he useless now? Has Alluka already been rescued? Where is that thing possessing him? Her?

And his brother is a girl? Why didn’t anyone tell him that? Kalluto doesn’t know whom to believe.

“We have some good news.” Gon pipes up.

“Illumi does care about Hisoka.” Killua says, unsure whether to sound enthusiastic or not. “So our intervention might work.”

“Really?” Kalluto sighs with relief.

“I wouldn't be so happy. If Chrollo finds out, Illumi’s in danger,” says Kurapika. He can’t help but be suspicious of anyone in the Phantom Troupe, even if it’s a ten year old. “And where would your loyalties fall, Kalluto?”

“Everything is nuanced to its situation,” says Kalluto soberly, sounding at least twice as old as his ten years.

Killua sighs. “Look, I want you to come with me. To talk to Illumi. You know where he probably is, right?”

“Hunting for Hisoka, but I know where his cabin is,” Kalluto says glumly. He wants to be relieved, be excited to see his siblings, but old feelings of abandonment and shame are welling within him for no reason, none that he can surmise. “He’d probably prefer me not to be here.”

“I want you there.”

“And Alluka?” Kalluto’s heart thumps. Killua wants his company?

“Gon is gonna keep her safe. Illumi isn’t very nice to her,” Killua says. “Still.”

Kalluto scowls. Alluka still receives more attention from Illumi and Killua, even if it’s negative. How unfair.

“I’m sorry; what are Kurapika and I to do?” Melody breaks in.

“Well,” Killua says, exchanging a wince with Gon.

“We need you to keep the Phantom Troupe occupied and away from Illumi. I’m sure they won’t be thrilled with our interference,” says Gon.

“You want me to distract Chrollo,” Kurapika says in disbelief.

“Something like that,” Gon says weakly.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to tell if he’s planning anything,” Melody assures Kurapika.

“What about Queen Oito? I can’t leave her,” Kurapika fumbles.

“I’ll guard her,” Leorio volunteers.

“No! That’s irresponsible.” Kurapika glowers at him.

“Then I’ll help Leorio,” Melody says sweetly. “You know you’re the one who can hold Chrollo’s attention the longest, Kurapika.”

Kurapika crosses his arms. “I don’t want to see Chrollo ever again.”

“Stop sulking,” Kalluto says irritably. “None of us are happy now.”

“You killed my entire clan!” Kurapika points at Kalluto.

“I did no such thing,” snaps Kalluto. “For someone who’s supposedly smart, you don’t seem able to see that your worst enemy is your own anger.”

Kurapika’s mouth falls open.

“Can we please agree and go our separate ways?” Killua says anxiously. Four Zoldycks on a ship is a bad idea. He just knows it.

“Fine.” Kurapika says, stepping back and opening the cabin door.

“Kurapika, if you’re mad, I’d rather you say it,” says Gon. He lingers over the edge.

Kurapika’s eyes prickle. “I’d rather not.”

“Okay.” Gon smiles halfheartedly and offers his friend a squeeze of his hand before they all depart.

 

 

* * *

 

Chrollo Lucilfer hangs his coat on his bedpost to dry. His damp hair swings wild around his eyes. He wears no shirt, but a new pair of trousers he stole from next door.

Someone slips inside his door.

Chrollo spins around. His mouth parts slightly at the sight of the chain user – Kurapika, that nincompoop.

Kurapika scowls at the spider marked _0_ tattooed over Chrollo’s heart. Of course their leader would be that extra.

“I suppose that’s twice now you’ve snuck up on me,” Chrollo says, not without amusement.

“I heard sightings of a, uh, I mean – a fantastic card player towards the bow,” Kurapika says. Sweat drops appear on his brow.

Chrollo narrows his eyes. If this wasn’t Kurapika, he’d be laughing right now. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“You think I’d stoop to talk to you if it were a lie?” Kurapika waves his fist in Chrollo’s face.

“Well, that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?” Chrollo leans back against his bed. His taut muscles shine in the dim lights, and Kurapika finds himself annoyed at Chrollo’s clear pride in his physique.

Chrollo closes his eyes, as if unafraid of Kurapika, as if Kurapika’s been reduced to a mere nuisance. “Say, do you ever realize how alike to your bourgeois employers you sound? Stooping to talk to the dirty, dirty thieves. People used to tour Meteor City and say the same things. In fact, the first person I killed was a tourist posing as a priest pitying the poor.”

He smirks. “I still wear his coat.”

“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you. I don’t,” Kurapika hisses, bending over Chrollo.

“No? Not even Pakunoda, who died not an hour after you left, because of your chain?” Chrollo tilts his head up. Their faces are inches apart, and frankly, he’s enjoying Kurapika’s discomfort.

“She had a choice.” Kurapika falls silent. Truthfully, Pakunoda’s indirect death haunts him more than Uvogin. Maybe because she seemed almost human. And he hates her for not being hateful.

“She grew too attached to people. That was her weakness. Also yours, if I recall,” Chrollo muses.

“Is that a threat?” Kurapika’s eyes ignite scarlet. Maybe if he and Chrollo fight, that will distract the troupe enough for Killua to reach Illumi.

Chrollo catches his breath. Is it possible that Scarlet Eyes are more beautiful attached to people?

Yes, but he won’t think on it more until the Troupe has dissembled again, after the Dark Continent, after Hisoka’s head is thrown before him. Chrollo’s always been about the next mission, the next story to read, the next person to kill. No ruminating on himself allowed.

“Only if you make it so.”

Kurapika growls.

“Why are you really here?”

Kurapika fishes for a semi-reasonable answer. “Because – because –”

“You’re boring me.”

“Because I want to know why!” Kurapika shouts suddenly.

Chrollo blinks. That, at least, doesn’t sound like a lie. “Why?”

“Why did you do it?” Kurapika shakes his head. “Do you understand what it is like to return to the only home you’ve ever known ad find your best friend’s eyeless head lying at your feet? To run straight for your family, only to find your mother’s own knife sticking in her throat, and your father’s body torn in half?”

The room is silent.

“I wouldn’t know a home,” Chrollo says at last.

“Don’t try to stir up my pity!” Kurapika shakes his head. “You’re stalling.”

Chrollo chuckles. Yes, yes he is stalling. Stalling because he doesn’t know.

“You could have at least left a few survivors to keep the clan from extinction,” Kurapika says. “Seems an extreme lack of foresight.”

“Not if my motive was power,” Chrollo says. He’s not sure it was. Maybe. But it fits.

Kurapika shakes his head. “You killed countless people to prove you’re powerful?”

“I don’t know,” Chrollo says simply. “That’s the truth.”

“Do you remember their faces?”

“The ones I killed individually, or by ordering my fellow Spiders?” Chrollo gazes evenly at him. “That would be impossible.”

“Their names?”

“I don’t know their names most of the time.”

Kurapika grabs a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it in Chrollo’s face. “Well, here are one-hundred-twenty-eight names. Read them.”

“Why?”

“If they are nothing to you, why not? Are you afraid they’re not nothing to you?” Kurapika taunts.

No, he’s afraid they’ll _become_ not nothing. Chrollo presses his lips together, but begins to read as Kurapika stands over him.

“Pairo was my best friend,” says the Kurta when Chrollo’s finger traces over the name.

“Well, you seem to have replaced him,” Chrollo says without thinking.

Kurapika seizes Chrollo by his hair. “Did you replace Uvogin? Pakunoda? _Hisoka_?!”

“I misspoke. I merely meant that you have loyal friends,” Chrollo replies with a wince. “In the Spider, we call it replacing when members inherit a former member’s number.”

He recalls when Shizuku joined, after Silva Zoldyck slaughtered his friend because Chrollo couldn’t reach him in time. No, Shizuku has not replaced him. Even though she too has become Chrollo’s friend.

“I apologize. Can you release my hair now?”

“Apologize for what?” Kurapika sounds flustered.

Chrollo cringes. He’s been careless with his words twice in one conversation. Damn this Kurta. “My words. I do not think you wish me to apologize with flippant words.”

“Are you sorry?” Kurapika sounds uncertain.

“No.”

“So you don’t regret slaughtering one-hundred-twenty-eight people? Pairo? My mother? My father? My little sister didn’t even have Scarlet Eyes. You could have spared her, at least.” Kurapika leans closer. Tears burn in his eyes.

“I haven’t really allowed myself to think on it,” Chrollo says quietly.

“So that’s your strategy? Just avoid thinking about what makes you uncomfortable? But so long as you steal from the rich and use nen to beat the strong in a battle, you’re brave? Sickening,” Kurapika fumes. “Coward!”

Chrollo blanches. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“No excuse.”

“So.” Chrollo’s eyes gleam. “You have thought about your actions, and you decided you are the arbitrator of life, and that my friends were not worthy to hold it?”

Kurapika pales.

“You haven’t thought of it at all, have you?” Chrollo grins, even as he grinds his teeth together. “You’re the same as me, Chain User.”

“How dare you.” Overcome by uncontainable emotions – shame, fury, panic and grief – Kurapika slaps Chrollo across the face.

Chrollo refuses to so much as flinch. He looks the other way, ignoring Kurapika’s gaze, ignoring his stunning Scarlet Eyes.

He might deserve the slap, at least. He can introspect that much. “I’m sure Killua’s found Illumi by now. The Spiders won’t disturb them. You may go.”


	4. Better Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's trying to be one. Not that there's a high bar, but still.

**Chapter Four**

**Better Parents**

 

“You _knew_?” Kurapika erupts.

“You made yourself very obvious.” Chrollo waves a hand, dismissing Kurapika. His voice comes out atypically harsh. “Go.”

Kurapika does, but he makes sure to leave the list of names with the Spider. That thing can ruminate on those he’s killed a little longer.

“I’m not,” he mutters to himself. “I’m not like him. I’m not!”

“You seem upset, lad,” says a gruff voice behind Kurapika.

“Hmm?” Kurapika spins around, ready to throw this interloper into the sea.

He stills. Does this make him like Chrollo? Because he wanted to rob the life of someone he didn't know?

A man in a captain’s uniform stands behind him. His eyes look almost fatherly.

Kurapika’s face pinches up. “I’m fine.”

“That’s the universal declaration that you’re not fine,” jokes the old, bearded man. “You’re one of Queen Oito’s guards, aren’t you?”

“I am. What’s it to you?” Kurapika is ready. His mind is already forming his chains.

The captain lifts his hands. “Nothing. I’m the captain, not an assassin.”

“Why aren’t you steering, then?” Kurapika sneers.

“Captains are allowed to eat. And take breaks. Humans can’t work all the time, or they spend all their life and die early.” The captain grins, a cheeky grin younger than the years on his lined face. “And you? A guard, also an assassin, perhaps?”

“I’m a guard, not an assassin,” Kurapika snaps. He pauses, remembering how he picked off Uvogin, then Chrollo. “I think.”

“Hence your distress? And here I thought it was a lover’s quarrel,” chuckles the old man.

“That bastard in there is my enemy and a wicked man, not my lover.” Kurapika’s face burns.

“Well, aren’t we all the wicked. And perhaps, the enemy.” The captain shrugs. “There’s a club to which we all belong.”

“I don’t love wicked people.” And it’s true, because Kurapika doesn’t love himself. He won’t ever forgive the Troupe for killing his family, and he will never forgive himself for surviving.

“Where would the world be without wicked hearts?” asks the captain, leaning back. “Do you think I am wicked?”

“I don’t know you well enough,” Kurapika says slowly.

The captain nods. “Here I am, allowing slaughter for a throne on my ship. Allowing outlaws and noble hunters to chase a continent that will more likely than not devour us all, rather than yield riches and diamonds. Yet you’ve no choice but to trust me.”

“What’s your point?” Kurapika hunches his shoulders.

“Perhaps embracing the wicked is different than embracing wickedness. Perhaps the true wicked are those who don’t.” The captain steps backwards. “I don’t know. The point is whatever you make it. A spade is never a spade unless you make it so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have tea to sip, and I’m through wasting it on people like you.”

Kurapika’s mouth falls open, but he allows the captain to pass without another word.

 

* * *

 

“There, there, kid.” Leorio tries not to drop the prince while Melody guards the hallway. Of all the patients he’ll lose, he’d rather a baby not be among them.

“Kurapika?” A tall, slender woman enters the room and skids to a halt. Her delicate face is framed by dark curls, and she wears a simple but richly purple gown. “Who are you?!”

“We’re Kurapika’s friends,” says Alluka.

Queen Oito relaxes just a smidge at the sight of another child. “Where is he?”

“He had some business to attend.” Leorio sticks out his hand. “I’m Leorio Paladi _knight_ , pro-Hunter and medial student.”

“Queen Oito Hui Guo Rou.” Oito narrows her eyes, but begrudgingly shakes Leorio’s hand. “If Woble likes you, I imagine you’re okay…but what business, may I ask?”

“We can’t tell,” says Alluka. “But I can tell you that my name is Alluka. And that it’s funny I can’t see Woble’s spirit unless I’m Nanika.” Her eyes turn jet black.

Oito tries not to scream. “You…you see Woble’s guardian?”

“Mmm!” Nanika waves towards the ceiling and giggles. “She looks like a puppy. Kinda like Mike. He’s Alluka’s family dog.”

Oito sighs. She hopes that someday Woble will enjoy life like this Alluka. “Well, that settles it, doesn’t it? Tell me more about yourselves.”

* * *

 

Kalluto scampers one deck above Illumi. He reaches the stairs just ahead of his brother and dips his head over the railing, directly in Illumi’s face. “Boo.”

“Have you come to your senses?” Illumi waits, as if he’s been expecting this.

Well, he’s in for a surprise, Kalluto thinks with a smirk.

And then Illumi senses it. A familiar, frightening in the feelings it conjures, nen. Directly behind him. His already round eyes bulge out of his head.

“Illumi,” Killua croaks.

Illumi spins around, ever graceful. As if Kalluto is trash.

“Kil.” He draws himself up.

“I don’t much like doing that anymore.” Killua attempts to joke.

Disappointment flashes over Illumi’s face. Or is it shame? “You came.”

“I emailed him,” Kalluto says, running to Killua’s side.

“You – why?” Illumi steps closer, as if he wants to embrace Killua, but Zoldycks don’t embrace.

“Can we talk in private?” Killua squeaks.

“Of course. Come to my room.” Illumi beckons for both his brothers to follow him. If Kalluto weren’t certain Illumi were dead inside, he’d have thought his brother shook a little.

“Well, Kil? Why are you here?” Illumi tries to hold his excitement back as he closes himself, Kalluto, and Killua inside his cabin. Zoldycks don’t give away their emotions, after all.

But _Killua_ sought _Illumi_ out. It’s all he’s ever wanted.

Illumi sits on his bed. His expression almost resembles that of a puppy. “Kil?”

Killua would like to ask Illumi to stop calling him that, but perhaps now is not the time. “I heard you’re engaged.”

“For now. It will end soon when I kill Hisoka. And that way Mother won’t be disappointed in my choice.” Illumi speaks as though he’s discussing clothing rather than his fiancé. “You’re not offended I didn’t tell you, are you?”

“I’m offended you’re engaged to _Hisoka_. I’m offended that you want to mock something like family enough to kill your fiancé.” Killua shakes his head. “I could almost handle _Hisoka_ if you weren’t planning on killing him.”

“Hisoka and I could not reproduce.” Illumi shrugs.

“Is that it?” Killua crosses his arms. “There’s adoption. And God knows, plenty of orphans.”

“They wouldn’t have the Zoldyck blood.” Illumi sounds scandalized. “Really, you should know better. Killua, do you _want_ me to marry Hisoka?”

“We’d rather you marry him than kill him,” Kalluto says loudly.

Illumi blinks. He leans forward to rest his chin on his fingers. “Oh dear, dear, this is not good.”

“Do you _like_ him? Is Hisoka…is he your friend, Illumi?” Killua pushes aside his distaste for Hisoka and forces himself to step closer to his brother.

“An assassin doesn’t have friends. Just family,” Illumi recites.

“Then do you consider him family?” Kalluto inches closer to Killua. _Look at me, dammit_.

“He’s not a Zoldyck,” Illumi says.

“Oh, come off it! I know you care about him, somewhere deep in here!” Killua digs his claw into Illumi’s chest, just enough to break the skin.

“Kil! I’m so proud you can still do that,” Illumi says. His face alights.

“Okay, he’s hopeless,” Kalluto pronounces.

“Illu,” says Killua, referencing the name he used to call his brother when his parents weren’t around, “I don’t want to lose my future brother-in-law.”

“He’s not family.”

“Yes, you’ve said that already,” Killua says dryly. An idea begins to emerge in his brain, and he winks at Kalluto. “Look, I came all the way to be with my engaged brother. Don’t rob me of that.”

 Killua gestures for Kalluto to leave. He swallows his desire to flee and never lay eyes on the misfortune called Illumi again, rinsing it down with the desire not to see his brother regret killing a friend. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

* * *

 

Chrollo finishes the list of names before he makes his way over to the note Kurapika left under his door.

It just feels right to finish the names. Some of them are floral, some short and sharp, but most sound like musical notes that roll off the tongue. Like _Kurapika_.

He wonders if that was on purpose, though now he’ll never know. But for a moment, he does allow himself to wonder.

Then he’s back to business. Chrollo picks up the paper on the floor to realize, with a jolt of surprise, that it’s no note from Kurapika.

It’s a Joker card.

Cursing to himself, Chrollo storms back to Deck 4. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find the Queen’s headquarters – guards, even when in disguise, are very obvious.

 

* * *

 

“Feitan!” Kalluto zooms over to his mentor, of sorts, who sits on the rail staring at the sea. If anyone else occupied such a precarious position, he would worry, but this is Feitan. The sun dips over the horizon, casting everything in a light as golden as Hisoka’s eyes.

With a quick glance hither and thither, to make sure no other Troupe members prowl about, Feitan pats the seat besides him. “What’s the matter?”

“What isn’t?” Kalluto bursts out. “My brother is gay, my other brother is trying to convince him to stay gay, and my other brother is actually my sister. Oh, and Milluki. Let’s add him to this mix. He’s probably spying on us through cameras. I’m sure he’s hacked in by now.”

Feitan tries to process what he just heard. “I did not sign up for this shit.”

“Neither did I. I didn’t ask to be born!” Kalluto growls. He thought he wanted Killua here, but he really doesn’t. He hates how Illumi favors him. And he hates that Killua has a plan and hasn’t told Kalluto yet!

“Whoa.” Feitan jabs a finger at Kalluto. “You are born. Be glad.”

He sends Machi an emergency text. _Code Black_. _Bow Deck. Now._

“Are you glad I’m born?” Kalluto tries not to appear as desperate as he feels.

“You know I glad,” Feitan admits begrudgingly.

Kalluto relaxes slightly. Despite himself, Feitan inches closer to make sure he’ll be able to catch the kid if he falls.

“Which brother is a sister?” Feitan waits.

“Alluka. She’s transgender, apparently. No one even bothered to tell me!” Kalluto spits into the water.

“The demon brother?” Feitan’s eyes alight.

“Alluka is now my sister. _Sister_. And I don’t know what to do.” Kalluto pouts.

“Why problem?” Feitan seems confused. _Machi, where are you_?

“If what I’ve heard is correct, you’re upset because you’re scared your parents knew Alluka was a girl and hurt her accordingly.” Machi announces her presence with another no-nonsense deduction. And ice cream.

“You get fat,” Feitan complains.

“Not without you.” She shoves ice cream at both of them.

Feitan scowls, but doesn’t hesitate to shovel the treat into his mouth.

“If you fall into the sea, I’m not fishing you out. You either, Kalluto.” Machi points at him.

“I don’t like my family,” Kalluto admits.

“I don’t either,” Feitan says. If family is what Kalluto’s relatives do, families can all die.

“I don’t like Illumi,” Kalluto adds.

“I suspected as much,” says Machi, patting Kalluto’s shoulder.

“He help kill Hisoka,” Feitan says, puzzled.

“They’re engaged. I don’t want him here and I don’t want him to kill his fiancé,” Kalluto says.

“You think he won’t?” Feitan looks enraged.

“Knowing how they were raised?” Machi purses her lips. “Oh, Illumi will do it. There’s no doubt.”

Feitan settles back. “Then what problem?”

“It’s not normal to be so unemotional, and Kalluto knows this,” Machi says.

“I am normal!” Feitan glares at her.

“Yeah, sure.” Machi rolls her eyes. “This is why he needs me too, Feitan.”

“Shut up, Machi.”

Kalluto wants to scream that he’s invited Killua and Alluka here, and Chrollo knows, and they want to find Hisoka first. But then will they think he’s a traitor?

Machi and Feitan are the closest things to parents he’s found in the Troupe. Feitan lets him ride on his shoulders, and Phinks says it makes them look almost like a full-sized person. And Machi gives him back rubs and treats.

“You’ll get through this, kid.” Machi elbows Kalluto and because she’s not sure what else to say, digs her fingers into Feitan’s neck.

Kalluto grins and helps her drag Feitan back onto solid ground, tickling the tiny man all the way.

“I shall kill you both,” Feitan spits as he’s crumpled to a ball. Because his one weakness is tickling, and only Kalluto and Machi and Chrollo know.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” Kalluto says, sauntering away.

“You realize we’re practically his parents at this point, Feitan,” Machi whispers, watching the Zoldyck child dance away.

“We’re better parents,” Feitan says firmly.

* * *

 

“My friend is bodyguard to the queen. It’s urgent,” Chrollo says smoothly.

Melody clears her throat, but allows another guard to fetch Kurapika.

After a few minutes, Kurapika hurries to the door. He promptly chokes at the sight of Chrollo.

“Hello, friend,” Chrollo says.

Kurapika slides outside, taking care to close the door behind him, but not before Chrollo sees the opulence within.

Kurapika wants to tell this spider to perform an anatomically impossible move on himself, but he settles for a brisk, “I see you’ve put a shirt on. What do you want?”

Chrollo dangles the Joker card in Kurapika’s face. “This arrived not ten minutes after you left. I assumed it was from you.”

"Do I look like the sort to joke around?” Kurapika shakes his head. “That certainly wasn’t me.”

Chrollo grinds his teeth as he slips the card back into his pocket. Because he does believe Kurapika. And they both know who would leave such a card. “Was anyone else around? Did you notice anyone?”

“The captain of the ship? An old lady? A crying young man regretting his life choices?” Kurapika nibbles his lip. “There were several.”

“Would you be able to recognize the lady or young man?” Chrollo presses.

“If I say no, am I breaking part of our deal?”

“So the answer is yes.” Chrollo needs to find him. Find the clown before he kills another of his Troupe. He can end this tonight, and he is ready.

Kurapika despises the passion in Chrollo’s eyes. He despises any moment of sincerity, of truth, from this man.

Still…considering the captain’s words, Kurapika opens his mouth to acquiesce.

The door opens behind Kurapika. “Killua, is that you?”

Alluka peers out. “Oh! Mr. Chrollo. Hi!”

Chrollo tries not to be too excited at the sight of the possessed child. “Hello.”

“What’s going on?” A woman Chrollo recognizes as Queen Oito pushes the door open further. Behind her is Leorio, and in his arms, a baby who must be Woble.

“You’re not the only group having murder contests aboard. This man is a danger,” says Kurapika.

Oito looks properly appalled. She sucks in her breath. “Do you need a place to stay, then, sir?”

“He’s probably the most dangerous of any of them,” Kurapika pipes up.

“But not to us,” Oito suggests. She seems a practical woman, the kind Chrollo sees as powerful allies and formidable enemies.

“Kurapika, we had a deal,” Leorio adds grimly.

“And anyways – I – I couldn’t help Momoze, but I can help him, and I will.” Oito purses her lips. “Come inside. We’re about to have dinner.”

Chrollo can’t resist giving Kurapika his most charming smile.

The Kurta’s eyes turn scarlet. He hisses in Chrollo’s ear. “Behave yourself or I’ll slaughter you.”

Chrollo bats his eyes at Kurapika. He can’t help himself. “Who, me?”


	5. Dinner and Dancing

**Chapter Five**

**Dinner and Dancing**

 

Melody follows Chrollo inside the cabin, eying him with suspicion.

“How long have you two been friends?” Queen Oito points at Kurapika and Chrollo.

Kurapika chokes. A killing aura begins to emerge from his body.

“Oh, Kura and I have known each other for about a year,” Chrollo says, ignoring the fury on Kurapika’s face.

 _Kura_?! Kurapika wants to murder him right here, right now.

Leorio takes a step closer to his friend, and, mercifully, Prince Woble claps her hands. She leans as far as she can towards Kurapika.

He smiles, the first genuine smile Chrollo has seen from the sole surviving Kurta, and pulls the baby from Leorio’s arms.

“Woble’s particularly fond of Kurapika,” Oito says.

“I see,” says Chrollo. There’s something odd about seeing the chain user laughing and playing peek-a-boo with the child in his arms. It’s almost endearing.

“What is your name?” Oito inquires.

“Chrollo,” he says, avoiding the last name, just in case she’s heard of it.

He knows much of this Queen Oito. A newcomer in the Kakin king’s harem. Someone scheming from birth, but rich and spoiled enough to become a queen instead of a thief.

“Chrollo Lucilfer, I presume?” Oito’s gaze pities him.

“Yes.” Chrollo is not fond of pity, although it can be useful.

She waves him further in, where Leorio, Alluka, and Kurapika sit on the floor. Kurapika tries to hand Woble to the queen, but the baby clings to him.

“Do you mind holding her?” Oito laughs.

“Not at all.” Kurapika kisses Woble’s forehead.

“I used to hate the Phantom Troupe, once,” says Oito.

“You’ll have to get in line,” Chrollo replies, sitting across from Kurapika, who shoots him a glare.

Woble begins to cry, and Kurapika immediately shifts his attention back to the prince, who enjoys tugging on his blonde locks.

“It was a silly reason. You stole the jewels I meant to wear on my wedding.” Oito shakes her head. “I was a vapid girl.”

Chrollo was not expecting such honestly. “I see.”

Oito presses her mouth into a thin smile. “I heard what your Troupe did during the Ant crisis. I heard what you do for Meteor City. My grudge is too foolish to bear. If possible – providing Woble and I survive – I’d like to send aid to Meteor City. Would you be able to place me in contact with those who could help?”

Chrollo stares at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“He wasn’t involved in the Ant crisis,” Kurapika says quickly.

“Oh?” Oito looks confused.

“I mean…he was recovering from an injury,” Kurapika adds with a grimace.

Chrollo was not expecting the chain user to have any shame, but apparently before this gentle queen, he does. “I can, but you’re not likely to find any contacts who don’t dabble in the underworld.”

“Is the underworld any seedier than a succession contest?” Oito flicks back a curl.

And Chrollo sees in her eyes a person who truly is not what he thought. Perhaps someone who has changed. He’s not sure if he feels frightened or confused, but he knows he feels grateful. “Then I will be in touch.”

Leorio sends Kurapika a confused face. He leans over to whisper in his friend’s ear. “This guy doesn’t seem all bad.”

“He is,” Kurapika replies, but even he recognizes that his words are a lie.

“You’re certainly not what I anticipated,” Chrollo admits to Oito as they sip simple soup. He feels Kurapika’s eyes follow his every twitch.

“Oh?” Oito shrugs. “Well, I have my daughter to thank for that. After her birth…I saw people differently. Maybe it’s nen. Maybe it’s just human relationships and hearts.”

“I hope everyone finds a Woble…even you, sir. Not a child, but someone who catalyzes a meaningful change in your life.” Oito breaks into a smile, and Chrollo realizes she knows exactly whom he is.

 

* * *

 

“Kil – Killua – “ Illumi corrects himself, because a nickname change is not something even he will pick a fight over, “shall we get dinner together?”

“Are you gonna make me kill and skin something myself again?” Killua jests.

“Not unless you can find something besides the rats aboard.” Illumi’s expression is almost happy. He recalls squatting besides his little brother, teaching him how to cut his kills. And even further back, cutting up food for Killua to eat, until Mom and Dad discovered and corrected him. Killua needed to be allowed to hurt himself, so he would learn how to handle knives from an early age.

But the first few times he copied all of Killua’s cuts on his own hands. To show Killua how to handle the pain. He’d rub their blood together and tell Killua it would be all right because they were blood brothers.

That was from a magazine Milluki had snuck into home. Illumi was often afraid to disobey, and so he had _never_ read an illegal magazine on his own, but Milluki had told him about blood brothers, and curiosity had gotten the better of Illumi.

“What are you thinking about?” Killua’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“I’m just glad to have you back.” Illumi nods.

Killua gulps. He should be grateful for Illumi’s arm around him, be grateful because he can use Illumi’s feelings to stop his self-destruction. But all he feels is trapped. “Of course. Let’s go.”

He and Illumi step outside the cabin to see Gon waiting there. Killua furrows his brow.

“What is he doing here?” Disappointment flickers across Illumi’s face, only to be replaced with his usual passive mask.

“I actually don’t know,” Killua says in frustration. “I thought you were watching – uh!”

“So Alluka is here?” Illumi taps his fingers together. Fascinating. But if stealing her powers means hurting Killua, he won’t mind going without.

“I left her with Leorio and Melody. She’s safer there anyways. From _him_ , too.” Gon glares at Illumi. “And I wanted to be with you and make sure you were okay, Killua.”

He wants to be with nen users and hunters, even if he can’t anymore.

Killua scowls. “If Kurapika did his unsavory job, you should have done yours.”

“See, these are why friends are bad for you,” Illumi says.

Gon wilts. “I know.”

“Shut up, Illumi.” Killua hugs his friend as his brother now wilts. “I know, Gon. It’s okay.”

“Really?” Gon smiles tentatively. He’s not sure he could handle Killua truly being angry for an extended period of time.

“Really.”

“Are all of your friends here?” Illumi tries not to show his distaste. Forgiveness? Without consequences? Hogwash.

“Yes – I couldn’t try to help you alone,” Killua confesses.

“You can do anything alone.” Illumi echoes Grandpa Zeno.

“I didn’t want to, then.”

“You family should be all you want.” Illumi had thought Killua had finally grasped this. “Goodness, Kil.”

“It’s Kill _ua_ ,” he snaps, finally breaking. Because hugging Gon is a million, no, a trillion times more happy than hugging Illumi. “Friends are family, too! They help when your idiot brother decides it’s fun to slaughter his fiancé.”

Illumi blinks. “Idiot?”

“Oh my god, that’s the one word you heard?” Killua stomps his foot. All the angst inside him bubbles up. All the threats against Alluka and Gon, forcing him to murder during the Hunter Exam. “Forget it. We’re not having dinner. You – you’re too stubborn to change!”

“You never needed to change, Killua. I would have told you if you did.” Illumi looks confused. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Maybe he truly doesn’t want to understand.

“Gon, I want to go find Kalluto,” Killua says through his teeth.

“Very well.” Illumi watches them go. Watches his brother abandon him for that brat again. Killua changed when he met Gon, and Illumi would do anything to change him back.

He’d even ask Alluka, a thought that unsettles him.

“Wait.” Killua grabs Gon’s hand. Tears burn in his eyes. He can’t believe he lost control – why is being around Illumi so difficult?

He turns around. “Illumi!”

“We’re not getting dinner tonight, but I’m not giving up on you.” Killua pauses. “Like you never gave up on me.”

He and Gon leave a baffled Illumi staring after them.

 

* * *

 

“You can stay in Kurapika’s room tonight, lest your cabin be a danger,” Oito says after they’ve finished dinner. “Though I will require that, should Woble be attacked, you assist me.”

“Gladly,” Chrollo says as the blood drains from Kurapika’s face.

Melody shakes her head at Leorio as she yanks out her flute.

Kurapika wants to slam his hands over his ears, even for music as lovely as Melody’s, because he doesn’t want to be calm. He wants to stop these lies, the lie that Chrollo Lucilfer can be anything but scum. He wants to remember the eyes of his clan, but he can’t, because now all he sees is bloody holes, lines with torn tissue and nerves dangling out and it’s horrible – it’s so unfair –

“I know this song!” Alluka announces. She slips over to Kurapika and pats his shoulder. “I need a partner.”

Kurapika melts a little. Alluka is here. Gon and KIllua are off somewhere. Leorio is with him, and even Melody is trying to help.

All he really has to do is tell Oito and Chrollo will be gone.

Though – he realizes with a start – if she knows of the Troupe, she surely knows of their massacre in Yorknew City at the very least. Even someone as kind and wise as the queen doesn’t feel the weight of people she never knew. Like Baise, like Ivlenkov, like Tocino, and Squala, and Dalzollene.

Kurapika wants to cry at humanity as a whole, but he settles for handing Woble to Oito and swaying with Alluka in his arms.

“Psshh, such simple dancing.” Leorio struggles to his feet and proceeds to flail about wildly.

Kurapika can’t help but burst into laughter. He hears another chuckle echo alongside his, and to his discomfort, it’s Chrollo’s.

“We’ll show you how it’s done, Leorio.” Kurapika nods at Alluka, who levitates and begins to spin in the air.

Chrollo watches her with fascination, until he realizes that, despite her suspension in air, she’s just copying. The real dancer is actually Kurapika, and he’s mesmerizingly graceful.

Melody finishes her flute and claps.

Kurapika bows to Alluka first, then the queen and prince. He sits back down, a blush on his face.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” Leorio says with a huff.

“Everyone in my clan learned.” He used to swing Pairo around, much like Alluka.

“Your clan! Do you know any traditional dances?” Oito inquires merrily.

Kurapika inhales. Of course he does – but he’d rather not dance with Chrollo present.

Then again, maybe he’ll show Chrollo another shard of what he destroyed.

“Teach us,” begs Alluka.

“Okay.” Kurapika rises and closes his eyes. He can hear the drumbeats and the tribal flutes playing. Feel the rhythm through the dirt, see Mom and Dad laughing in the firelight as he spins around and around –

He hasn’t danced this dance in years, but he feels it now, and his feet know exactly where to move. Despite all he’s lost, he still has this dance.

Kurapika stops, breathless. His heart races, and his face is flushed.

“Bravo!” Leorio claps.

“So beautiful,” gasps Oito.

“Please teach us,” Alluka repeats.

Chrollo remains seated as the rest of the room climbs to their feet. Even Melody places her flute down.

Kurapika approaches him, glaring down. “You too.”

Chrollo smiles, almost sadly. He can see what Kurapika intends, but for beauty and learning, he doesn’t quite mind a guilt trip.

“Use your left foot first,” Kurapika commands. Chrollo watches the chain user’s fingers tap to a song that will forever only be heard inside his head.

“You’re good, Mr. Chrollo.” Alluka giggles.

Kurapika wrinkles his nose. Chrollo has mastered a dance he took months to learn in a few minutes. And the Phantom Troupe leader is _smiling_ , as if enjoying his graceful spins and leaps, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Is there any justice in this world?

Chrollo pauses, stopping straight in Kurapika’s face. His heart still beats to the rhythm, and for a moment, he felt as if he and Kurapika were connected, through nen or God or souls or whatever, and he too could hear the music.

* * *

 

“Go away, go away, never come back another day,” Kalluto calls out upon hearing Killua’s knock.

Killua easily picks the lock. He enters with Gon instead of Illumi. “You know, for someone supposed to be hunting Hisoka, you sure do spend a lot of time emo in your room.”

“I was just eating ice cream with my friends,” Kalluto shoots back. “How is that emo?”

Killua is relieved. “Ice cream? I’m glad.”

“Where’s Illumi?” Kalluto tosses out.

“Off determined to kill his fiancé,” Gon says.

Kalluto scoffs. “Of course. I was stupid to think he would change. Or care about anyone besides Killua.”

“He cares about you,” Killua says quickly. “But you’ve always been more obedient.”

“I don’t care.” Kalluto lounges back on his bed.

“You’re practically crying,” Gon observes.

“Shut up!” Kalluto hates that Killua and Alluka and Illumi are all here and he feels lonelier than ever.

“Well, I won’t shut up, because I have a plan and I need your help,” Killua presses. “You’re an integral part of making this work.”

“Plan?” Kalluto waits. He, frankly, is too trapped in prepubescent angst to believe that he’s an integral part of anything.

“What’s Illumi’s one weakness?” Killua holds up his finger.

“Family,” Gon says, at the same time Kalluto says, “You.”

“Okay, close enough.” Killua sighs. “So we have to turn Hisoka into Illumi’s weakness.”

“Huh?” Gon rubs his forehead. Kalluto, however, stares at his brother.

“It’s simple.” Killua rubs his hands together. “We need to find a way to marry Hisoka and Illumi without them knowing.”

 

* * *

 

“We’ll start investigating the captain and others tomorrow,” Kurapika says. They’re alone at last. Alluka and Leorio are in their respective restrooms, and Chrollo is making himself comfortable on the floor. His coat, though still damp, makes a lovely pillow.

Like he owns the place. Kurapika looks like he just ate a lemon.

“You? Or your friends?” Chrollo asks.

“Does it matter?” Kurapika has a feeling Gon’s going to force him to do this, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try to weasel out.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” Chrollo smiles slightly. “On another subject, I will not teach anyone your dance.”

Kurapika stiffens. Does this mean – no, surely the Spider just means that his people mean so little it’s not worth teaching.

“I just thought I would tell you,” Chrollo adds. He’s not sure why he’s still talking. Or why he wants Kurapika to know – it’s like he wants to comfort him in some small way.

Besides, he assures himself, more trust will allow him to be closer to the Zoldyck girl.

“Good,” Kurapika manages, because like hell will he say _thank you_.

The two young men stare at each other, each afraid to speak more.

The door opens, and Chrollo breathes a sigh of relief.

“What is he doing here?” Gon wrinkles his nose, and Chrollo has to laugh.


	6. Nightmares

**Chapter Six**

**Nightmares**

 

Chrollo is a light sleeper, much like everyone in the Troupe, save Phinks. Years of murder, flight, and bounties on their heads has cemented that as a necessity, but it is also an integral part of growing up in Meteor City. One never knew when someone might sneak into your shack with a knife and drink your blood just to have something in their stomach. In fact, it happened to Chrollo’s neighbors.

Hence Chrollo is the first to register the frantic moans from Kurapika’s bed.

He sits up immediately, his hand flying to the book beside him. Leorio sleeps on the floor to his right, Gon and Killua to his left, forming a barrier between him and Alluka.

“Mom…” Kurapika slurs.

Chrollo hesitates.

“Stop! I – kill me instead,” Kurapika whimpers, tossing fitfully.

Killua scrambles to his feet; Chrollo has never been so relieved to see someone else awake.

“Kurapika.” Killua knows these dreams. The dreams where the dead haunt you. He approaches his friend slowly. He flicks his fingers towards Chrollo, warning him to stay back.

“Don’t – don't – please,” Kurapika begs. Tears stream down his cheeks. “Please!”

Kurapika sits straight up, screaming in utter terror. “ _Don’t_!”

“Kurapika!” Alluka shrieks. Gon and Leorio jostle Chrollo closer.

Kurapika sees his enemy, the bloodstained murderer looming before him. He lunges off the bed, straight at Chrollo, who leaps back. Killua catches him before he falls.

“Pairo?” Kurapika looks at Killua, but his eyes – his eyes remain unfocused. He grabs at Killua’s face. “Your eyes are here.”

Chrollo feels bile rising in his throat.

“Wake up!” Gon slaps Kurapika across his face, and finally, finally, recognition dawns on the chain user.

Kurapika’s face crumbles. “You’re not Pairo.”

Killua rocks Kurapika back and forth as his friend dissolves into sobs. “No, no, I’m not. I’m sorry.”

“I just want them back. Why – why did I leave – Pairo was defenseless – he could barely walk – why did I betray them? It’s all my fault.” Kurapika huddles on his bed, sobbing so hard his breath comes in gasps.

“Shhhh.” Leorio strokes Kurapika’s hair. “It’s not your fault. It’s not.”

“But it is. I left six weeks earlier, in a test, and they saw our scarlet eyes. They threw rocks at us and called us monsters. And we made them lie that we hadn’t shown our eyes. I can’t help but think – think they saw us then.” Kurapika grabs at his face. “And no one knew. No one knew we needed to defend ourselves.”

Leorio turns, slowly, to Chrollo, whose pallor is grey.

So Pairo was the pretty crippled boy? And this blonde man, this Kurapika, the chain user…he was the small boy who knocked down all the bigoted men?

Chrollo has often wondered what Indoor Fish feels like, but this might be as close as he’ll come.

“That’s not true, is it?” Leorio prods.

Chrollo drops his stricken face. Of course he was in the crowd that day. He’d been amused at that ignorant old woman, hurting people who possessed the most mesmerizing eyes he had ever seen. Just because they were different.

“The least you can do is look at him,” Gon blurts.

Chrollo forces himself to lift his eyes to Kurapika’s. “It – it wasn’t your fault.”

“But you saw us then, didn’t you?” Kurapika hunches his shoulders.

Chrollo stays silent.

“Answer him!” barks Leorio. The air feels like lead sinking around them.

“Yes,” Chrollo says, as quickly and clearly as he can bear.

And then, like a coward, he hastens out the door.

“Bastard,” Leorio snaps as they’re once more closed in darkness.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alluka tiptoes closer. She places her hand on Kurapika’s knee, and he finds himself returning to reality.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t agree with where you’re going.”

Chrollo stops. He has to laugh. “And what does it matter to you?”

Melody stands in the dim passageway, which is blinding compared to the darkness of Kurapika’s cabin. She watches him with sorrow on her face. “You’re going to punish yourself by risking Hisoka finding you in your cabin.”

“I won’t be the one who dies.” Chrollo spins to face her, a mirthless smile on his face. “I already killed him once before.”

“Oh, I doubt death is your goal. You know that living is the greatest punishment of all.” Melody unwraps her arm, and Chrollo briefly wonders if she has another power.

But instead of power he sees doom: a disgustingly withered arm, oozing and charred and almost perfect in its evil.

She covers it immediately. “Life was my punishment. But I chose to turn it into my atonement. Every day I still choose that.”

“I feel nothing to atone for,” Chrollo says. He _knows_ he has many things to atone for – for the wages of his sins are death, and eventually he will pay that price – yet he’s never valued himself enough to _feel_ it, or to care.

_But in devaluing yourself, you’ve also devalued others._

Chrollo’s not sure where the thought comes from, but he squirms.

 

* * *

 

“They say they started with the people who didn’t have scarlet eyes. They took the most damage.” Kurapika’s voice shudders. “My little sister had a genetic defect, so she would have been one of them. They were slaughtered like beasts. Torn apart.”

He remembers the brute strength of Uvogin. He imagines him ripping his sister in two and tries to muffle another scream.

“Then,” he says, voice rising, moving on to forget the torturous imagery his mind devises, “they tortured the children with red eyes. In front of their parents. Before they cut off their heads while they were still alive. Sometimes I wonder if the parents even struggled when their turn arrived.”

Gon’s blood is cold, and even Killua is perturbed. Assassins are neat, quick – the game is finding the perfect opportunity, and making it quick. The killing, the pain? Those are not the game. Never.

Leorio sniffles, and Alluka huddles closer to Kurapika. “Is that your dream?”

Kurapika shakes his head as he draws his knees closer to his chest. “Not exactly.”

“What do you dream? If it will help,” Leorio says.

“I … wasn’t there. I just read it in the papers and arrived to see the aftermath. But in my dreams, I am there. Watching. Screaming. But they keep me alive. They – those spiders – chain me and force me to watch. I am there, and yet my presence doesn’t make a speck of difference!” Kurapika gasps.

“I can’t save any of them. My sister. My mom and dad. My best friend, Pairo. He was – he had bad legs – the reason I left – to find a doctor for him.”

Kurapika’s voice breaks again, and he reaches for Leorio’s hand. “I’m so glad you are a doctor.”

“Well, trying to be,” Leorio says, and to his relief, Kurapika does laugh, just a little.

He remembers when they first met. Kurapika’s initial indignation over Leorio’s pursuit of money, and how Kurapika calmed down upon hearing of the death of his best friend. Who was too sick to live and too poor for a doctor.

_I guess we were more alike than we thought._

* * *

 

Outside the room, Melody finally releases Chrollo’s arm. He strides away as fast as he can.

He doesn’t remember any of their faces. He recalls allowing Uvogin and Phinks and the others to have all the fun they wanted, while he declared today the day of their deaths.

He didn’t much care for the killing himself. Sadism was never his real thrill; that was others’ and he merely allowed it. Taking was his thrill.

He remembers holding one of the first eyes in his hand – the sun had broken through the clouds, and he was overcome by desire. And so Chrollo had stopped Feitan from skinning a child to knife out one eye, and hold it aloft in the glorious sun.

And he’d felt a rush of mysticism or beauty, holding a scarlet eye dripping in blood.

Had he killed the child then? Chrollo can’t recall. Probably not. Most likely he let Feitan continue his fun.

Ha. No wonder Kurapika hates him. Chrollo recalls his assault on the mafia upon Uvogin’s death. Revenge, it seems is a part of human nature, and something he possesses too.

But he doesn’t want revenge right now.

He’s not really sure what he does want, he thinks as he locks himself in his room. Perhaps he’ll be lucky and Hisoka will emerge, and Chrollo can forget his feelings by taking something else – Hisoka’s life.

He flops across his bed. His heart feels undeniably heavy.

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Mummy?” Kalluto approaches an unwrapped Bonolenov as he suns himself in the light of dawn. Shizuku, his partner for the Hisoka chase that Kalluto’s already sick of, sleeps a few feet away.

“Still with the nickname, heh?” Bonolenov chuckles as he stretches. There aren’t many people about at this hour, so he’s free to display the tribal holes all littering his body without judgment.

“It’s my second nen talent,” Kalluto says. “Any luck finding the clown?”

“If I had any, you’d know. Don’t worry. I’ll let you partake in the glory. You’re not at all subtle about that, you know.” Bonolenov smirks as Kalluto scowls.

“Well, I have a strange request. Don’t ask me any more on it.”

“Oh?”

“Are any of our members licensed to officiate a wedding certificate?”

Bonolenov blinks. “Well…Shalnark was. And Danchou, naturally. And – hey, Shizuku, wake up!”

Shizuku flies to her feet. “What did I forget this time?”

“Nothing,” Kalluto says. “I hear you can officiate wedding certificates.”

“I can. What does someone your age want with a wedding certificate?” Shizuku crosses her arms, and Kalluto can tell she already suspects something awfully close to the truth.

 _Shit_. Kalluto savors the swear. He’s gonna have to elaborate anyways. “Well, when we kill Hisoka, I’m afraid Illumi will feel sad afterwards. I think he’s the closest thing to a friend for Illumi. Not that he won’t do it, but I – I was hoping a certificate might make him feel better. More accomplished.”

“Oh, is that all?” Shizuku shrugs. Kids are so weird, but surely this kid knows his brother better than the rest of them. “I could see that. Those quiet ones always hold the most emotion.”

Kalluto gulps.

“Well, give me a few hours and I can do it. So long as Bonolenov doesn’t let me die in the meantime.” Shizuku snorts. “And if Illumi hates his present, we’ll feed it to Blinky.”

“Thank you!” Kalluto looks truly excited, and despite her usual distaste for children, Shizuku finds the tiny assassin rather disarming.

“Kortopi could have copied it forever,” Bonolenov says. The three fall quiet, and Kalluto realizes that despite the Troupe’s idiosyncrasies, they are a family. A family who lost two siblings, something Kalluto is certain the Zoldycks could never handle.

 

* * *

 

“A captain is definitely capable of marrying people,” says Killua, steering Gon towards wheelhouse.

“But didn’t Kurapika theorize the captain could be Hisoka?”

“He said he was the least likely. Besides, think of this mission as two-for-one.” Killua rubs his hands together.

“I’m worried about Kurapika. His dreams sound awful,” Gon says, “and I don’t think Chrollo is helping.”

“Oh, you mean Mr. Frilly Coat Who Ran Away?” Killua sneers.

“Yeah.” Gon shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s like me with Kite, but worse. What if Kurapika uses all his nen up too? To avenge his family? “

“I hadn’t considered that.” Killua stops in the middle of the passageway. _God-dammit, really_? “Don’t take offense, but he’s a bit…a bit less hotheaded than you.”

“Not when it comes to the Spiders,” Gon points out.

Killua cringes. “We will stop him.”

“Yes, we will. Pinky-promise?” Gon holds out his hand, and Kurapika takes it with a laugh.

They reach the wheelhouse and knock.

“We’re cute children wanting to explore,” Killua instructs.

A grizzled old-timer with more sunspots than there are stars opens the door. “Eh?”

“Hi!” Gon waves, pasting a sweet smile on his face. “Are you the Captain?”

“Captain Baha, at your service.” He bows, surprisingly graceful for such an old man.

“Do you mind if we look around? We want to be sailors when we grow up.” Gon grabs Killua and giggles. Killua, meanwhile, just tries to maintain his childlike face. _Act like Alluka. Not a killer_.

“Certainly, my boys.” The captain steps aside to allow them into a fairly sparse room. Empty except for an empty cup of tea on a table, and an ornate wheel.

“How is the journey going?” Gon asks, running his hands along the wheel.

“We should arrive in a week,” says the captain.

“Really? That fast?”

“We’re powered by nen as well as steam,” says the captain with a grin.

“So you can use nen?” Gon blinks.

“I don’t see an aura around you,” Killua accuses.

“Because it’s helping the ship. Never fear, kids. We’ll get there, with nary an iceberg in the way.” The captain winks.

“Cool.” Killua nods. “Why did you become a sailor?”

“I like the freedom, truth be told,” says the Captain with a gentle smile. “Can I help you with anything else?”

“Nope, I think we’re good.” Killua looks at Gon. “Right?”

“Think so. Thank you!” Gon beams at the captain as Killua yanks him out.

Kurapika waves from his position just to the side of the door.

“Did you have enough time to get here?” Killua whispers.

Kurapika nods, holding aloft his judgment chain. He gestures for them to follow him and waits until they’re a few minutes from the wheelhouse before talking. “He mostly told the truth, but he lied on his name.”

“Huh. So he could be Hisoka.” Killua frowns. “But I’m still surprised he wouldn’t recognize us. Or at least react.”

“Me too, but then, this is Hisoka, and he’s full of surprises,” Gon jokes.

Killua can’t help but snicker. “True.”

Kurapika doesn’t hear his friend’s banter. He’s planning using his judgment chain on someone else as soon as he can.

Because of what Melody said she heard during his nightmare last night. Because he thinks she might be losing her touch, or maybe they’re all crazy and hypnotized, or maybe Chrollo is the best actor the world has ever seen.

He needs to ask Chrollo if he’s sorry again.


	7. Until Death Do Us Part

**Chapter Seven**

**Until Death Do Us Part**

 

Chrollo awakens early the next morning to tie a bandana around his forehead. He adorns a simple white collared shirt, as if he were pure and innocent.

He’ll have to go on Kurapika’s brief description of the three witnesses to Gon and Killua. He has no real desire to see out Kurapika right now.

Fortunately, the young man described by Kurapika last night isn’t hard to find, even with a vague description. He’s a bodyguard for Prince Tserriednich...whose chambers are deliberately close to Chrollo’s cabin.

Well, neighbors are supposed to be friendly, after all. And maybe he can forget the screaming Kurta boy if he focuses on his two missions: theft and murder.

Though those were the missions under which he caused Kurapika’s misery…

Damn Hisoka for stalking him. Ruining his treasure plans.

“Tell me, are the rumors of the prince true?” Chrollo smiles, offering the bodyguard more coffee.

“You’ll have to specify,” says Danjin dryly.

“The treasures he’s stored aboard, naturally. I imagine that makes life even harder, what with the succession contest and all,” says Chrollo.

“Oh, it does.” Danjin gratefully accepts another cup of coffee. “This is very good, sir.”

“I do pride myself on fine coffee. It’s my nen skill,” Chrollo says with a cheeky grin. “Is Tserriednich the sort to care more about his body or his treasure? I honestly can’t tell.”

“Both. Though guarding the treasure – he has a pair of Scarlet Eyes, and let me tell you, those are creepy to behold.” Danjin shivers. “I can’t help but wonder who had them, how they lost them, what their life was like, you know?”

“I do,” Chrollo says, feigning concern. Or is he feigning? Why can’t he escape the Scarlet Eyes?

_You ordered this. You chose this prison._

“But I imagine we’ll be collecting more on the Dark Continent. The prince discovered he’s a Nen specialist,” adds Danjin.

“Oh?” Chrollo keeps his face still.

“You may make coffee sweet, sir, but he made the water test turn into sewer water. Or worse. I’ve never seen anything like it,” says the careless bodyguard, shaking his head in amazement.

“Goodness. How frightening. I don’t want to distract you for too long, lest he be angry with you!” Chrollo rises to leave.

“You know, you’re the second to ask about that today,” says the man.

Chrollo stills. “Oh?”

“Captain Baha himself was asking after it. He’d prefer not to have a bloodbath on his ship.”

Chrollo sits again. Immediately. “Do you know much about this Captain?”

“Not really.” The man barks in laughter. “He appeared out of nowhere, it seems, with more sailing skill than most of the Kakin’s private fleet.”

“I see.” Chrollo is almost certain that this Baha is none other than Hisoka the murdering clown.

He sends a text message to the Troupe. _What do you all know of our captain_?

 _You mean the perv always watching me whom I suspect is Hisoka?_ Machi replies immediately.

 _He what_? Feitan says, before sending a dozen knife emojis.

 _I don’t quite have Shalnark’s reasoning skills, but I too find his records suspicious_ , writes Shizuku.

 _Orders, Danchou_? asks Franklin.

 _We should probably consider that if he’s the captain, he might be the only one to know where we’re going_ , warns Kalluto.

 _Sometimes I’m surprised Hisoka can find his way to his asshole_ , Machi says.

 _Illumi’s not,_ Phinks responds.

 _PHINKS STOP_. Nobunaga’s text is accompanied by a sobbing emoji.

Chrollo shakes his head in amusement. _At sundown, let’s ‘confront’ this captain in his wheelhouse. Together._

* * *

 

“We have a problem!” Kalluto scampers into Kurapika’s room.

“Eh?” Kurapika waits by the window, ever patient so long as the Troupe isn’t involved.

Well, he’s about to be disappointed.

“The troupe figured it out. They’re going to ‘confront’ the captain tonight.” Kalluto tears at his hair. “I’m useless!”

“Don’t panic.” Killua grabs his brother by the shoulders. “We’ve got this.”

“We need you,” Gon adds helpfully.

“You do?” Kalluto wipes his eyes.

“Yes. Both of you.” Gon points to Kurapika.

“And I’m the fourth wheel,” Leorio announces.

“Fifth,” says Alluka.

“Sixth!” Kalluto sticks out his tongue. “You’re sixth!”

“Oh, okay. Might as well be fish food,” mutters Leorio.

“But seriously,” Killua says, turning back to Kalluto. “Do you have your paper?”

“Can I do my role soon? I have a confrontation with Chrollo scheduled,” Kurapika says with frustration.

“Say what?” Killua asks in exasperation.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t involve murder this time.”

 

* * *

 

“You didn’t try to disguise your presence this time.” Chrollo sits on his bed, smirking at the Chain User in his doorframe.

“Are you sorry?” Kurapika holds forth his dousing chain. “This will detect your lies.”

Chrollo doesn’t even protest. He speaks flatly. “I don’t know.”

The chain swings.

“The least you can do is tell the truth.”

“Maybe,” Chrollo says, and the chain doesn’t move. “I haven’t allowed myself to think so much on it.”

“But do you _feel_ sorry?” Kurapika snaps.

Chrollo sighs. He turns his face away. “Yes.”

“Ha!” Kurapika stares at his unmoving chain with disgust. “I’m glad my trauma is good for something.”

“And what is that?” Chrollo turns back to him.

“If this is what it takes for you to maybe feel some kind of empathy, you’re a monster,” Kurapika spits. “I hope someday you experience what it’s like to watch your friends tortured for – for your fluffy coat. Or your spider tattoo. Something useless. And then I hope they die right before you.”

“They already died before me, at your hands, if you recall,” Chrollo says icily.

“They weren’t tortured in front of you. You weren’t even there when they died,” Kurapika mocks after a brief moment of silent fear. He feels as though every molecule of hatred has been released inside, and is forcing its way out through his mouth.

“I _know_.” Chrollo growls.

Kurapika frowns. He’s never seen the leader lose control before.

Chrollo relaxes. His even expression resettles across his countenance. “But if you think I’ll ever forgive myself for that, you don’t know me as well as you think.”

Not for Uvogin and Pakunoda – he really should have emphasized his unimportance more – not for Shalnark and Kortopi.

“So you can pity those who belong to you, but not my family? Not a crippled child? You’re pathetic,” Kurapika growls. There are tears in his red, red eyes.

Chrollo forces a laugh. “You don’t want me to die, after all. You want me to understand.”

Kurapika spits in Chrollo’s face. “You understanding won’t bring them back.”

Chrollo casually wipes away the spittle littering his cheek. He won’t say he doesn’t deserve that. “But my death will? My friends’ death will?”

 Kurapika points at him. “If – If there were an alter I could trade – I would cut out your heart without hesitation.”

“But there isn’t. Not even with magic.” Chrollo scoffs. “Isn’t humankind hopeless?”

Kurapika raises his hand to strike him again, but Chrollo is faster. He opens his book and sends Kurapika sprawling across the room.

“I’m warning you, Kurapika of the Kurta Clan. Don’t lay a hand on me again.” He, like everyone born in Meteor City, experienced enough assaults as a child to last a lifetime.

Kurapika stares at the head of the Spiders. His eyes are a dark and stormy gray. And he is deadly serious.

The words that emerges from his mouth sound rather trivial. “You can teleport people with that.”

“It’s one of the more boring, and therefore more useful, abilities I’ve acquired.” Chrollo closes the book.

“Why haven’t you teleported me before? I spit on you. I used my judgment chain. I slapped you yesterday.” Kurapika scrunches up his face.

Chrollo is quiet for a moment. Despite the beauty of Kurapika’s eyes, he finds himself afraid to look on them. “Because…I was trying…to understand.”

Kurapika is taken aback. “You’d need to suffer for that.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“Your actions?” Kurapika conjures his dousing chain again. “I will charge this for both of us. We are going to tell the truth, once and for all.”

“I’m almost impressed, you looking at yourself,” Chrollo can’t resist saying.

“Shut up!” Kurapika snaps.

“Ah, there the anger is again. I’d almost missed it.”

* * *

 

“Illumi.” Killua scampers up to his brother, who’s practicing pin throwing by the stern. The poor fish below.

“Killua.” Illumi elects not to tell his brother about the plan to kill Hisoka tonight. It will only further upset Killua.

“Want to get lunch?” Killua offers Illumi his hand.

Illumi grabs it instantly. “I haven’t seen you in a day.”

“I needed time,” says Killua, pulling his brother into the dining hall. “But Kalluto was very helpful. So was Alluka. They had a marvelous idea.”

“Oh?” Illumi makes a note to thank Kalluto for whatever he said.

“We’re going to all sign a document that we’re a family, and we don’t kill each other, and we stick together. Make it official.” Killua injects as much cheer into his voice as he can muster.

Illumi hesitates. “What if Alluka proves…”

“She’s not a danger. Neither is Nanika. I like them both, actually,” Killua insists.

“Okay, okay.” Illumi holds up his hands. If Alluka is the price for Killua’s love, he’ll create a hundred Allukas. “Where do I sign?”

Killua holds out a parchment and pen. He holds his breath as Illumi signs his name beneath.

With Kalluto’s paper manipulation, Illumi believes he’s signing a document with Kalluto, Alluka, and Killua as cosigners, instead of a marriage certificate with his siblings as witnesses.

“There we go!” Illumi smiles. “This is wonderful. Kil – Killua, I’m so happy to be your brother.”

Killua gulps. “I’m glad, too.”

“You were how I first learned to value family. I realized early on when caring for you that I would care more about your life than my own,” Illumi says, eyes focused on sometime in the past. “That’s how I learned to prioritize family over everything else. I’m happy as long as you are.”

 _You’re not, not at all_! Killua wants to shriek.

Illumi chatters on. Apparently, signing this paper is all he’s ever needed to feel secure. “You know, even if I died and I had no offspring, I’d be okay. Because there’s you. You’ve always been my hope.”

Killua feels his heart slowly sinking into the sea.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t worry. Soon you’ll be free of your promise. We’re going to apprehend Hisoka today.” Chrollo looks at the ceiling in a half-prayer. This truthful conversation should prove entertaining, at least.

“You’re sure you want to?” Kurapika looks at him. “What do you feel when you kill?”

“Nothing, really. I don’t enjoy it. I…didn’t enjoy killing your clan. I just…I view it as necessary sometimes. Never really as power, I don’t think, Chrollo muses. He keeps his eyes unfocused, so he can’t see Kurapika’s indignation. “At least not for myself. Power in the name of the Spider. To keep people afraid so they don’t attack us.”

“Didn’t stop me, though.” Kurapika says softly.

“Few people are as dedicated as you, or Hisoka.” Chrollo focuses on his hands. He imagines them dripping with blood. “Not even the Zoldycks enjoyed attacking us.”

“But now you have two with you.”

“I enjoy that, yes. The children are not responsible for the parents.” Chrollo smiles sadly. “I suppose I felt a bit like a parent when Hisoka took Kortopi and Shalnark.”

Kurapika frowns. “He what?”

“They said they wanted to partake in Hisoka’s defeat, so I stole their powers – borrowed, really – to destroy him in Heaven’s Arena.” Chrollo holds up his book. “And that’s when he tore them apart.”

He wonders if the Kurta parents felt like that when he tortured their children.

Of course they did. Once the thought has settled in Chrollo’s head, he can’t shake it. Perhaps they even felt worse, because those parents had done nothing.

“Chrollo…I didn’t know that.” Kurapika stares at his feet. “Do you find vengeance satisfactory?”

“Do you?” Chrollo watches Kurapika closely. “How did you feel when the adrenaline wore off, when you let me go but saved your friends, when you killed at least two of my friends?”

“I felt…like drowning. In indescribable emptiness.” Kurapika’s face is flushed. Because that feeling is what he clings to, as much as it confounds him – the feeling that he’s not a born killer, unlike Chrollo.

“Lonely, isn’t it?” Chrollo half-smiles, and Kurapika feels cold.

He – Chrollo Lucilfer does not enjoy revenge.

“When we slaughtered the mafia for Uvogin, it felt spiritual. A requiem for his soul, which I will personally break out of hell should I have to.” Chrollo sighs. “And then the music faded, and Uvogin is still gone.”

“If…” Kurapika says after a moment, “If I promise to stop my vengeance, will you cease yours?”

“We’ve already planned Hisoka’s demise. Most likely.”

“You know you can stop it. You’re their Danchou.” Kurapika gestures towards his dousing chain. “I will stop if you spare Hisoka.”

He’ll focus on the eyes. He’ll stop killing the Troupe.

Chrollo ponders this strange offer. _The Spider First._ If Hisoka can not destroy the troupe, isn’t peace better? Even for he, who has never known peace?

He’s not the only one who should make this decision. This is for the entire group. And Hisoka.

“I will see what I can do.” Chrollo stands. “It’s about that time.”

“My promise remains open until Hisoka dies.” Kurapika says.

“I know.” Chrollo smiles briefly. “Thank you.”

Kurapika swallows the lump in is throat. In the end, all he can do is pray that Gon and Killua’s plot works. “Let me come with you.”

Chrollo opens his book. “Let me see…no. No.”

Kurapika is sucked back against the wall. Pinned there.

“Why not? I have to help my friends.” Kurapika struggles.

“Because _my_ friends will kill you.” Chrollo leans closer. “And right now, I don’t want that, Kura.”

“Why not?” Kurapika nearly shrieks.

“I don’t want the Kurta clan to go extinct. Not anymore,” Chrollo says softly as he closes the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

“Hi, Captain Baha,” Gon sings, prancing into the wheelhouse.

“Hello, Gon,” the captain says with a ready smile.

 _I never told you my name_ , Gon thinks. “I have a favor to ask.”

“A favor?” The Captain cocks his head.

“Yes.” Gon presses his hands together. “My friend and I are in a contest to see who can get the most signatures from famous people aboard the ship.”

“Signatures?” The captain eyes him, and Gon’s throat dries a little.

“Yes. I want yours first.” Gon holds out the sheet of paper and a pen.

The captain shrugs, hopefully assuming he’s just under duress from a silly child. He raises the pen and quickly scribbles his signature.

“Thank you!” Gon snatches the paper away before the captain can blink. He lifts it up, and, sure enough, Kurapika’s truthtelling nen is changing the name. The ink swirls around to rearrange the letters.

_Hisoka Morow._

Gon doubles over laughing. “We got you, Hisoka!”

The captain’s mouth falls open. “What?”

The door bursts open.

“There’s a problem!” Kalluto shouts, shoving Killua out of the way. The two children are swiftly thrown aside as Nobunaga, Phinks, and Feitan zip into the room.

Bonolenov and Shizuku crash through the front windows. Franklin and Machi crawl in the sides.

Illumi hurls a pin that the captain narrowly dodges. He squeezes himself into the tiny room.

“STOP!” Gon bellows, jumping in front of the captain.

He’s nenless, but he has to try.

“Wait!” Kalluto stops another pin with his paper fan, causing Illumi to pause with pride. Kalluto leaps to the captain’s back, and Killua scrambles to his side.

“Kalluto, why?” Machi cries as Feitan halts his attack.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Franklin shakes his head.

“I never kid,” Killua says sternly.

“Because you are one?” Phinks shoots back, raising his fist.

He’s warped aside.

“What is going on here?” Chrollo strides in, book in hand. His voice is deathly serious, and even Kalluto feels a chill run down his spine.

Well, Chrollo can’t say he’s surprised to see the small power duo covering a captain who is slowly melting into Hisoka. Kalluto’s choice, though, is disappointing, not that Chrollo blames him. But they can reason with this child. He is not too far gone; people rarely are. No need to get upset.

This will be over soon. Shalnark and Kortopi will have their vengeance.

“Illumi, you can’t fight Hisoka any more,” Killua insists.

“Why not? It’s our engagement.” Illumi holds another pin aloft, and Feitan nods with approval. At least Illumi _was_ truly committed to the troupe.

“Because,” Gon says. He holds up the paper and waves it around, in front of Hisoka’s face. “Oh. Wait. Wrong side.”

Hisoka is now dead white.

Gon flips the paper about for Illumi to see. “You’re not engaged any more. You’re married.”

“He’s your family now,” Killua adds.


	8. Illumi's Wedding and Other Matters

 

**Chapter Eight**

**Illumi’s Wedding and Other Matters**

 

The wheelhouse is quite a sight to behold. Hisoka is sandwiched between a defiant Gon and Killua. His face looks as pale as a phantom dying a second time of exanguination.

Illumi is speechless. His eyes bulge out of their sockets. The troupe’s faces range from confused to dumbfounded to infuriated. Chrollo is alone in appearing impressed despite this setback.

“Killua, you didn’t.” Illumi finally summons his strength to break the silence.

“I had to,” Killua says.

“It was partially my idea,” Kalluto confesses.

“You’re grounded,” Machi responds. She knows how insecure Kalluto is. If she can emphasize his importance, he can learn to do better next time. Though she hopes there won’t be a next time.

“It’s a fucking scrap of paper,” Phinks splutters.

“But Illumi loves rules.” Killia points at his brother, who is indeed tapping his fingers against his chin.

“Illumi, you’re not serious?” Feitan barks.

“I am mildly daunted,” Illumi says. “Family cannot be killed.”

“Dude, you tried to kill your own sister,” Hisoka squeaks.

“Whose side are you on?” Gon yells.

“Mine!” Hisoka’s eyes burn. He doesn’t look like Hisoka the clown at all. “I can take all of them. I will.”

“For what, your pride? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and we’re in the room with people who slaughtered an entire tribe for their _eyes_ ,” Killua finally says.

Gon knows he should talk, but what can he say? Gon feels a connection with the wild man behind him. As if he’s seeing himself, battling Pitou, spinning out of time and control.

“I don’t want to lose another friend,” Gon says at last, his voice small and ever sincere.

Hisoka sniffs. Why does Gon tug at his heartstrings? Ugh. How inconvenient, though he does admire the brat’s pluck. Diving into a group of murderers without nen is pretty ballsy. Hell, Hisoka wouldn’t do it, which means of course he would, but whatever.

“This is the kind of shit that makes me think Gon and Killua would be great members, Danchou,” Nobunaga ventures.

“Not helpful right now,” Shizuku says.

Chrollo listens to his troupe, as always, but decides not to address them, not just yet.

He keeps his gaze fixated on Hisoka.Perhaps his talk with Kurapika haunts him. Perhaps it’s his own human curiosity. “It was a fair fight.”

“To the death, and I am not dead,” Hisoka jeers.

“You were. I won. Kortopi and Shalnark were not me.” Chrollo hopes he does not have to outright ask the question he’s posing.

 _Why_?

“Are you not all one entity?” Hisoka cackles. “Hey, now, does the spider have feelings? Do you actually mourn?”

Chrollo’s lips curl. “You know I mourn.”

He’d even mourned Hisoka for his treason, for his deception.

“Kill a little less next time and maybe you’ll be finished with your mourning someday.” Hisoka guffaws.

“And you never feel pity?” Machi demands.

“Pity is a waste of my time, which, after dying, I do find precious.” Hisoka swivels to wink at her.

“Okay, can my brother-in-law not hit on my psuedo-mom?” Kalluto demands.

“Mom?” Hisoka wrinkles his nose. “Kid, you have issues.”

“Says the dead guy,” Phinks retorts.

“Illumi, kill him,” Bonolenov says.

“How did you get a marriage certificate?” Illumi asks instead. “Nen conjuration does not an official certificate make.”

“It’s real.” Killua looks at Shizuku, who groans.

“I drew it up. They said it was to commemorate your engagement after Hisoka was dead.” Shizuku crosses her arms. “That was mean, Kalluto.”

“Clever,” Chrollo has to admit. This is quite inconvenient. When he’d walked into the wheelhouse, when he’d felt the palpable rage of his fellow spiders, he’d felt certain he would scorn Kurapika’s offer.

And now he’s not sure the best option.

“Oh goodness. I’m really married? But we can’t have children.” Illumi shakes his head.

“Weren’t you just saying I was your legacy anyways?” Killua asks.

            Illumi looks like a lost child. “But everything you said…there’s…no agreement between us siblings.”

            “There can be,” Killua assures him. “I would like that, too.”

            “Then why lie?” Illumi looks shattered. He feels as though his own heart has been torn out. Messily and bloodily and definitely not how Illumi taught Killua. “Oh dear, oh dear. You don’t love me after all, do you?”

            Illumi begins giggling like a madman. Giggles so fast he can’t catch his breath, giggles so powerfully he can’t even find the willpower to control himself, giggles until he sinks to the floor.

            He’s never been loved. Not by anyone.

            Not even Killua.

            “I didn’t come here because I hate you,” Killua says finally. There’s so much more he wants to say – how he’s angry and full of pain more than a thousand needles, but he knows he loves Illumi too – but the lump in his throat impedes his words.

            “Killua loves you. Kalluto loves you, too. And somehow, Hisoka must love you to propose, right?” Gon persists. Ever the friend. Ever putting Killua’s first thoughts into words.

            “Or he wants to sleep with you enough,” Phinks says. Nobunaga delivers him a sharp glare.

            “Why am I feeling things?” Machi grumbles.

            “I don’t have feelings,” Feitan says, advancing towards Hisoka.

            “Not even for your dashing pinkette partner?” Hisoka jeers.

            “It’s words on paper, Illumi. It doesn’t matter.” Bonolenov tries to stir the visibly distressed assassin.

            “It does! You know it does!” Kalluto cries, pointing towards his brother.

            “I swore to join the Phantom Troupe, too,” Illumi says slowly.

            “That’s it.” Phinks winds his fist up and sends it straight towards Hisoka.

            Hisoka dodges, and Gon leaps in the way.

            “Gon, don’t!” Killua yelps.

            Chrollo teleports himself between Phinks and Hisoka. The punch collides with his face, and for a second, he sees the sun and moon surrounded by a trillion stars.

            He could have teleported Phinks. But if his Troupe is to see how serious he is – perhaps he should sacrifice something. Like one punch.

            “Danchou!” Phinks shrieks.

            Chrollo holds up one hand as his other goes to his bleeding nose. “I think…I have another idea.”

            “Is it me slitting your throat?” Hisoka whispers. “Please say yes.”

            “You used to be fun,” Shizuku says with disgust.

            Hisoka hasn’t looked scared this entire time, but he does now.

            He, who always lived for fun, for the next fight, for the next fuck, until he fell, and now and all he lives for is fury.

            Who is he furious at?

            Chrollo? Chrollo told him the terms. Chrollo had never sugarcoated his pwer.

            Who is he furious at?

            “It’s a truce,” Chrollo says. “Should we all agree.” He closes his eyes. “We’ve lost our best reasoner, you know.”

            Hisoka eyes him. “A truce sounds boring.”

            “Does your life sound boring? You get us to this Dark Continent, do not interfere in our affairs, and we cease seeking your head.”

            Hisoka sneers, summoning a flicker of his old self. “That’s not even the prettiest part of me.”

            “I’m sure Illumi can discover that,” Chrollo says.

            “What do we get out of this deal?” Nobunaga rages.

            “The chain user is aboard, too.” Chrollo looks back at their shocked faces. “He offered to spare us if we spare Hisoka.”

            “Two lives for all of ours doesn’t seem fair,” says Franklin.

            “Illumi is one of us now. I rather think no matter which side he chooses, should our war continue, he will suffer,” says Chrollo. “Am I right?”

            “Perhaps. Not that that should stop you.” Illumi answers as properly as he was taught. Feelings don’t matter. An assassin does not need feelings.

            Of course he feels fond of Hisoka. But he’s charged with killing him.

            “Well, it kinda does,” says Kalluto.

            “And Kalluto. What do you want?” Chrollo asks.

            “As sick as I find these two,” Kalluto begins gesturing to Hisoka and his brother, “I don’t want either to suffer. This was all my idea. Really. All of it.”

            “Kalluto, really?” Feitan shakes his head.

            “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t want my brother to self-destruct. I can’t not be attached to the Zoldyck House, just like you’re attached to Meteor City,” Kalluto explains. He’s been rehearsing this speech for two sleepless nights. “Please.”

            “I’m not mad,” Feitan grumbles. “I agree.”

            “So do I,” says Machi.

            “My heart does,” adds Shizuku.

            “Is everyone forgetting Shalnark and Kortopi?” Phinks erupts.

            “I will never forget them,” Chrollo says coldly. Blood continues to dribble down his nos. “But they would want the spider to stay together more than they would want vengeance.”

            Phinks lowers his head, recalling Pakunoda’s death. How fragile the spider felt. How his heart hurt. He never wants to suffer that again. “Okay.”

            “I’m sure I’ll understand someday,” says Nobunaga. Bonolenov pats him on the shoulder.

            “That’s it?” Hisoka asks. “Because I do feel obligated, as your captain, to say I’m the only one aboard who knows where to go.”

            “I knew it,” Machi fumes.

            “That’s it,” Chrollo says. An evil glint appears in his eyes. “Enjoy your wedding night.”

 

* * *

 

            “Hi,” Hisoka says after the rest of the troupe has left. He hasn’t moved from behind the wheel. For all Illumi knows or cares, the ship is sailing into a wreck.

            Illumi ignores him. He keeps his attention on using his nen to fix the shattered windows. “Lest more people fall suspiscious.”

            “I see.” Hisoka sighs. Illumi, ever-practical. “Are you mad at me?”

            “Why would I be mad?” Illumi doesn’t look at him. “It’s not like you knew about Killua’s treachery.”

            Hisoka flounders. “I mean…”

            Illumi releases a dark aura. Just a flicker. But it’s enough. “Did you?”

            “I suspected the truth when they asked me to sign.” Hisoka points at Illumi. “It sounded like a fun twist. You, though…you dropped your guard for your brother again, didn’t you?” He tries to laugh, but his laughter, like everything since his death, comes out sounding pathetic.

           “I never learn.” Illumi purses his lips. He might as well die. On his wedding night. But that would be melodramatic and shameful, and he can’t shame his family.

            “You’re not at all happy to spend more time with me?” Hisoka sashays closer to Illumi. He reaches for his hands.

            Anything to distract from the misery of being alive. And now, thanks to that wretched Gon, he has to stay that way.

            Illumi glances up to see Hisoka smirking in his face. His red, red lips are mere millimeters from Illumi’s, and once more Illumi feels himself lost in those golden feline eyes.

            His heart picks up, and Illumi wishes violently that it would not.

            Hisoka slips a kep into his hand. “Now, I turn over the wheel to the first mate in an hour. You may rest in my cabin. I think you’ll find it more spacious than yours.”

* * *

 

            Kurapika slouches against the wall in Chrollo’s room. If this asshole doesn’t return soon, he’s going to pluck out _his_ eyes.

The thought makes him flinch. No, no, he wouldn’t; he’s not like Chrollo.

And Chrollo is also not like he thought Chrollo would be.

Kurapika’s not sure how that makes him feel.

The door opens slowly. Chrollo snickers at the sight of Kurapika, the Chain User, now captive in his room. “You’re free now.”

Kurapika stumbles to his feet.

There’s a large bruise on Chrollo’s cheek, and his pretty nose is bent sideways. Rivulets of blood run down his chin. “Uh –”

“We took your deal,” Chrollo says nonchalantly.

“You did?” Kurapika gasps. “Killua and Gon’s plan worked?”

“It was most amusing.” Chrollo bends over, pressing the sides of his nose to control the bleeding. “I’m unsure the world is prepared for a married Hisoka or a married Illumi.”

Kurapika stops on his way out the door. “Was that a joke?”

“Ah, the nearest I could manage.” Chrollo lowers himself on the bed. It’s time to set his nose, the way he did when Mama was alive so she wouldn’t worry.

“You shouldn’t lie back. You can choke on the blood.” Kurapika says reluctantly.

“Thought you’d be more excited.”

“That’d be an unfitting end. I think we can both agree.” Kurapika grimaces. “Are you really setting your own nose?”

“I did once before, twenty years ago.”

“How old _are_ you?”

“Twenty-six,” Chrollo says, as flecks of blood appear on his lips. “I’d say only two broken noses in that amount of time, especially when one hails from Meteor City, is quite the achievement.”

Kurapika’s brain can’t help but try the math. Chrollo would have been twenty-one when he massacred his tribe. Barely two decades. Three years older than him now.

He tries to think. What is the least like Chrollo action to take?

“Here. I’ll set it.” Kurapika doesn’t wait for approval. He grabs the bone and shifts it right.

Chrollo twitches. “Did you enjoy that?”

“A little,” Kurapika lies.

“You’re lying.” Chrollo grins.

“Yes.” Kurapika snorts at the irony. “Why did you take the deal, anyway?”

“Would you like honesty?”

“You know I would.” Kurapika sits on the floor, across from Chrollo.

“Because I felt like I owed Gon and Killua. They could have escaped at any point from Pakunoda. I would have been killed. They didn’t, because they cared about the effect murdering me would have on you. And she was grateful.” Chrollo winces. “I suppose, to honor her, I sided with Gon and Killua. I decided to stop my friends from killing, just this once.”

He shrugs. Is he more introspective now? These last few days?

Either way, he feels like he’s landed on the border of life and death, hope and despair. Just where he likes to be.

“I’m glad.” Kurapika feels that a very small part of him wishes he had known Pakunoda. And another, louder part condemns him, because she slaughtered his clan, and he will never betray his clan.

They’d accept his deal, right?

“Are you okay?” Chrollo asks bluntly.

Kurapika is appalled. “Of course I am.”

Chrollo narrows his eyes. “No one is.”

Kurapika holds up his middle finger. It’s a rude gesture he once thought beneath him, but time in the real world has taught him otherwise. It’s a gesture he might have made to Leorio during the hunter exam, so he’s not sure why he holds it up to Chrollo, but it seems appropriate.

Chrollo smiles, watching Kurapika leave.

As much as he’d like Kurapika to recognize their similarities – as much as he’d like Kurapika’s sanctimony to burn – he must begrudgingly respect this young man. He’s too serious, with his clan clothing and vows and willingness to sacrifice, but a piece of Chrollo must admire him.

Perhaps, when he steals Tserriednich’s treasure, he’ll donate the Scarlet Eyes to a certain bodyguard.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, time for a good rest.” Hisoka stretches the second he walks in his door. Illumi lounges on his bed, examining his pins as if they’re the most fascinating machine in the world.

The truth is that he’s imagining stabbing himself.

“You can’t even be happy, can you?” Hisoka pouts.

“Not without Killua,” Illumi says.

“Really, because after the Hunter Exam, when you thought you had Killua again, you didn’t seem much happier.” Hisoka smiles, a thin, waif of a smile. Unlike how he used to smile.

Illumi wants to ask what happened, why Hisoka has let one defeat kill his spirit if not his body, even feels the tremors of questions about an afterlife. But like a proper Zoldyck, he buries his curiosity behind what he sees before him.

“Shall we?” Illumi asks.

Hisoka turns green. This is – is Illumi – well, this is not how expected this to happen. “Illumi?”

“If we’re married, aren’t we supposed to copulate?” Illumi asks. The only indication he feels anything is the fact that he can’t look Hisoka in his eyes.

“What the…” Hisoka has never not wanted to fuck, and he’s dreamt of Illumi since meeting him, but this is something he’s never heard.

“Have you ever had sex before?” Hisoka hears himself demand.

“Of course I have. Mother and Father insisted I let one of my victims do it when I was sixteen, to see it was nothing to fear.” Illumi scoots to the edge of the bed.

Hisoka holds up his hand. “Okay, first of all, Mother and Father should _never_ be in the same sentence as you having sex.”

“Why not? It’s what happened,” Illumi says. “It made me stronger.”

Hisoka speaks slowly, as if to a child. “Did you _want_ to have sex?”

“It was a job, not fun.” Illumi shrugs.

Hisoka glances aside. This makes him very, very uncomfortable. In fact, Illumi’s description is dangerously close to the one sin not even he will touch. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“We’re married; aren’t we supposed to?” Illumi replies.

Hisoka buries his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe what?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you if you don’t _want_ it.”

“Oh.” Illumi pauses. “I do.”

“Do you? Are you sure?” Hisoka slips to Illumi’s side, pulling his friend – his only friend, his royally screwed up friend that makes him thankful for his own fucked-u childhood – closer to him. His breath tickles the back of Illumi’s neck. “Are you really sure?”

“Yes.” Illumi looks straight ahead.

Hisoka runs his fingers across Illumi’s slender thighs. He nibbles Illumi’s ear. Illumi turns his head to kiss Hisoka, and to his surprise, Illumi, while rough and using more teeth more than a first kiss should require, is passionate.

Hisoka’s heart picks up with delight. He loves teasing, yes he does. For a moment, he feels like himself again. With a groan, he shimmies onto Illumi’s lap and tugs on his husband’s glossy locks.

Illumi pulls HIsoka down atop him, and Hisoka knows it’s now or never.

He leaps back, off Illumi. “Nah.”

“What?” Illumi sputters.

“I’m not having sex with you until I’m certain you want it. I want my husband as feisty as me.” Hisoka cackles.

“But – but we’re supposed to!” Illumi begs.

“Yeah, fuck ‘supposed to.’” Hisoka flutters his eyelashes at a desperate Illumi. For a moment, he reconsiders. But no. Illumi liked kissing him, and Illumi will like sex with him – he’s never disappointed any lover – but he does not want to give into any Zoldyck ordinance. “I’m done giving into family duty. We’ll save our hanky-panky for when I’m absolutely certain my little Illumi wants to.”


	9. Fighting the Unseen

**Chapter Nine**

**Fighting the Unseen**

 

Killua rubs sleep out of his eyes to grab his buzzing phone. Alluka, Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio all begrudgingly raise their heads in their overstuffed side cabin. “Huh?”

Leorio mouths a question to Gon _. Is your voice saying his name really his ringtone?_

Gon shrugs, but a little thrill runs through him. He still matters to Killua.

“Congratulations on your success, brother,” says Milluki’s voice around some kind of food. A donut, probably.

Killua wants a donut. Curse Milluki. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I do, but I waited until dawn at least. You should thank me.” Milluki slurps a liquid. Probably coffee. Damn Milluki.

“No.”

 “Okay, but really – I thank you. And Alluka, and Kalluto. Pass on my thanks.” Milluki sounds sincere, and Killua’s not sure how to feel about this.

 “You cared?”

“Yeah, I actually do care about my siblings,” Milluki snaps.

“Coulda fooled me.” Killua dares to tease. “Here I thought it was just about preserving your status _not_ as the eldest son.”

“Ha!” Milluki snickers. “You’re right about that, too. But I…I’m happy for Illumi.”

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“No, and I’m not dumb enough to tell them their son is married to someone barren,” Milluki says. “Don’t worry, this is a secure line. I overrode their hacking.”

“I don’t know if Illumi will forgive us,” Killua says.

“Pah. One joy ride with Hisoka later and he’ll be thanking you.”

“A what?” Alluka asks. Gon scrunches up his face in confusion, and Leorio dives forward to bury his head in Kurapika’s blankets.

“Was that Alluka?” Milluki asks.

“Yeah,” Killua growls.

“Oh. Then nothing! Nothing! Forget what I just said!” Milluki insists. “But hey, Killua, can I talk to her?”

Killua hesitates. “Alluka, do you want to talk to Milluki?”

“Okay.” Alluka holds out her hand. She doesn’t hesitate.

She’s not like Killua, trapped between loving them and never wanting to be around them.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you?” Milluki’s pitch rises. Almost like he feels guilty.

“I’m having adventures. You should come. All us kids should be here.” Alluka chews on an end of her hair.

“I’d like to,” Milluki says wistfully. “Tell you what. When you survive the Dark Continent, I’ll take all of us – even Illumi and Hisoka – for a vacation.”

Alluka’s eyes shine. “Really?”

“Really.”

Killua cringes. He doesn’t want to ever, ever take a vacation with his family. But if it makes Alluka happy, he might sacrifice some more of his sanity.

 

* * *

 

Machi cracks open an eye as the heat of another body in her bed spreads over her back.

Memories hit her, along with the distinct sensation of ice in her belly.

Because she hasn’t been this foolish in a long while.

_Feitan’s despair over Kalluto’s treachery. Grabbing Feitan and forcing him to talk to Kalluto. As she expected, the small edgelord was beside himself with stress and emptiness, especially when he realized his “better parents” were disappointed._

_He’d then held out his hands for torture._

Machi slowly turns her head to the softly snoring man beside her. His eyes are closed, and in sleep he looks peaceful.

_When Machi and Feitan talked Kalluto out of punishment – besides Machi binding his door shut for the night – and left, Feitan had exploded._

_“What parent torture their kid?”_

_"You tortured kids before,” Machi reminded him. And they’d all paid, with Uvogin and Pakunoda, but would it ever be enough?_

_“That was different. I am not their parent,” he spat._

“Hey. Wake up.” Machi reaches over to shake Feitan.

He bolts upright. For a second they both stare at each other, wide-eyed and a little afraid. Both of their chests are bare and marked with purple bruises. As much as they’d like to pretend nothing happened, that nothing has changed, they’ve never been ones for living in the past.

_Machi then followed Feitan back to his room, where the small thief began punching his pillow._

_And then she put her hands on his shoulders, told him it was okay._

_Somewhere along the lines he had kissed her. And she had joked about being Kalluto’s married Better Parents._

“We didn’t break any rules in the Spider,” Feitan says finally.

“Is that your concern?” Machi asks with a bite.

_They’d been all over each other like drunk teenagers._

Feitan picks at a loose thread on the blanket that covers both of their lower halves. For all their wealth, the Kakin family hasn’t exactly stocked their ship generously. “No.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she mutters.

Feitan meets her wide blue eyes with his small dark ones. He grabs her wrist. “You stay.”

Machi settles back besides Feitan, her heart rushing with relief. “No one can know.”

“No one,” Feitan agrees.

Machi giggles. “But imagine – we probably had a better night than the newlyweds.”

Feitan pulls her closer. He adorns a smirk. Testing if this is all right, testing if they can still work when they’re not drunk on brokenhearted sins. “I’m glad you are not Hisoka.”

They both laugh, harder than they have in years.

 

* * *

 

Hisoka, despite what he considers his current foray into the Dark Continent of abstinence, has not slept all night. Illumi kept him up, thinking of other terrible ways to not seduce.

Hisoka’s personal favorite was Illumi’s legal argument that an unconsummated marriage was grounds for annulment, and then Illumi might have to kill him.

 _Only if you file for one, Illumi dearest_.

He still wants to die by Illumi’s hand, though. He will, someday. But not now. Not before he savors every inch of Illumi, he vows as he steps into the wheelhouse. Complete in his Baha uniform.

“Captain Baha,” says a filthy voice from behind. A tall man, with shoulder-length hair of a silkiness that rivals Illumi’s, hooded eyes, and a pencil-thin mustache that should not exist on HIsoka’s ship.

Hisoka notes a foul aura has been added to his presence. This man just keeps getting better, doesn’t he?

“Prince Tserriednich.” Hisoka spreads his lips into a grin. The prince whose treasure will be wrecked by both Kurapika and the Troupe.

Hisoka should want to fight him. Before he died, he would have wanted to. But now he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t understand why.

“How goes our voyage?” The prince lifts his eyes, as if his question, or anything he does, for that matter, is innocent.

“It goes.” Hisoka pauses. With a wink he adds, “Oh, were you curious for more information? We have about a week left until we’re expected to arrive.”

“A week…a week for me to win the succession contest,” Tserriednich muses.

“And how exactly do you plan that?” Hisoka asks with amusement. His senses tingle. Why is the pricne confiding in him?

“The only way that matters. Death.” Tserriednich laughs merrily. “I see that disturbs you.”

“Oh, it does, but not as you think. I am allowing it, after all.” Hisoka focuses on the wheel.

“All my life I’ve lived surrounded by treasures. Riches. Luxury. I’ve never wanted or feared for anything, and yet all I feel is want and fear.” Tserreidnich smiles, an ugly smile. “What is life, if not a constant fight for survival? I will make it to the continent, I will triumph over my vapid family, and in that focus on death, I believe I can become truly alive.”

Tserreidnich cackles. “You’re the same, are you not?”

“I prefer to combine fucking _and_ fighting, but yes.” Hisoka grinds his teeth.

Because it’s true, and he’s never had an affinity for the truth.

“Ah, why choose? Smart man.” Tserreidnich pats the captain on the shoulder. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m not sucking your royal dick.”

“So was my father, eight times over, but that wasn’t what I was asking.” Tserreidnich laughs. “I think you and I could have quite the arrangement. You aid me in the succession, and I send you on some of my best adventures. Once I’m king.”

“Shall I assume your dear father shall meet his end here, too?” Hisoka wouldn’t object to that. The sweet chaos would be fun to watch.

Still, he finds it empty.

Tserreidnich merely smiles. “Tell me, where are Queen Oito’s chambers?”

The captain barks with laughter. Isn’t Gon staying there? Like hell would Hisoka endanger Gon. That part of him is constant, even after dying. “If I knew that, the contest would be most unfair.”

“I see.” Tserreidnich eyes him.

Hisoka smirks. He debates directing the prince to Chrollo, because it’s not like yesterday fixed anything, or maybe it did and he’s resisting. But the truth is, he’d rather focus on getting Illumi into bed first. “Perhaps we can strike a deal at a later date. Good luck in your endeavors.”

 

* * *

 

Kurapika kisses Woble on her forehead. The child claps her hands and giggles, and for now, it’s all he needs to summon a smile.

Queen Oito is preparing for her day in her chambers, so Woble is with Kurapika in the side cabin, and he’s loving every minute with this child.

“You have a good heart, Kurapika, even if heavy,” Melody says, watching the young man dance around the cabin with the baby.

“Heavy?” Leorio looks up from where he’s drawing flowers with Alluka, who is currently determined to decorate Illumi’s room with paper wedding bouquets.

“How can it not be?” Kurapika asks.

“It can’t. That’s how I can tell the traumatized apart from the free.” Melody closes her eyes, as she always does when her gift wearies her.

Kurapika speaks slowly. He’s not sure why he asks, except maybe he can’t find his hate for the head of the spiders anymore, and he’s not sure when or why he lost it. “And this Chrollo, where is his heartbeat?”

Melody opens her mouth, but a squawk from Leorio interrupts her. The two bodyguards barely have time to turn around before they see Leorio unconscious on the floor.

“Queen Oito!” Kurapika sees nothing, but this – this must be a targeted assassination. Like Momoze. He tightens his grip on Woble and launches himself to the door connecting their room, but suddenly hands – invisible hands – wrap around his throat.

“Stop it!” Alluka’s eyes go black, and Nanika releases a frightenly dark aura. She rushes towards whatever is attacking them, and it’s clear that somehow, she can see it.

Kurapika wheezes as the pressure on his throat loosens.

But before he can thank Alluka, Melody is smashed against the wall. Her eyes roll back into her head.

Alluka screams again, and from beyond the door, Kurapika can hear Oito shriek.

“That’s it!” Kurapika must save everyone – Alluka, Woble, Oito. He’s a bodyguard, after all. “Alluka – Nanika – _run_.”

He shoves open the door, hurls himself into Oito’s room. Whatever Guardian Spirit is haunting them follows him and Woble.

Behind him, he’s vaguely aware of Alluka fleeing the room.

Kurapika feels something bite into his side. Gagging, he dodges the invisible beast and yells, “Catch!”

Oito grabs Woble, and Kurapika summons his chains to smash the window to her cabin. “Go!”

Oito is yanked back by her hair, but Kurapika knocks her out of the way. She scrambles again for the window, but suddenly, the glass begins to melt around her. Melt back into sand that traps them inside.

Kurapika stops struggling with the invisible Guardian to see Prince Tserriednich clapping in the doorway.

“Don’t mind me; tell me, what was your little escape plan once you went out the window?” The Prince steps inside and locks the door behind them. Before Kurapika can say another word, the handles on both exits are melted.

 

* * *

Alluka is crying so hard she can barely see. The guards outside are all unconscious. _Nanika, help me_.

 _We have to go back_! Nanika wails.

The beast itself was interesting, with a horse’s body, high heels like Hisoka, and a pretty woman’s face that revealed a second, screaming face beneath.

She knows that’s partly why she’s scared. _What if that beast is like us? One monster inside another._

 _She’s nothing like us_! Nanika exclaims.

 _Nanika, shut up and find Killua!_ Alluka begs. _I know you’re not a monster, but I’m_ scared!

 _He and Gon are at the other end of the ship_ , Nanika replies, as close to tears as Nanika has ever gotten. Nanika can’t cry, though all she usually feels is sorrow.

 _Okay_. Alluka pauses, well aware that every second she wastes is another second Kurapika could die _. That will take too long. What would Killua do?_

She snaps her fingrs, like she’s seen Illumi do, even though he never really seems to notice how she imitates him. _Chrollo! Is Chrollo close?_

 _Let’s go,_ Nanika replies, and Alluka surrenders her body to her friend once more.

 

* * *

 

Chrollo is hiding on the first deck of the ship, but directly above Kurapika’s cabin.

In between supplies and maps, behind barrels of food and wine, directly across from signs pointing to the hidden stairs to the brig, Chrollo spies a guarded, locked room. Doubtless Tserriednich’s treasure.

He’ll have to keep watch for a few days. Get descriptions of all the guards. Right now there are just two, but surely they are on rotations.

Then, when everyone else is off to their death on the continent, they’ll kidnap all the treasure. They might not even have to kill, and that is oddly relieving.

Well, they’ll take all the treasure save the Scarlet Eyes. Chrollo will loan them to Kurapika. Maybe. He hasn’t decided, he tells himself, even though he probably has.

Besides, the chain user’s reaction is sure to be fascinating.

Surely Kurapika is aware of the eyes aboard, but he’s only one, and Chrollo is many. He will be able to steal the Prince’s Treasure before Kurapika can finish planning.

Though Kurapika has surprised him before, he must acknowledge.

Hmm. And Kurapika could have been one of many, but Chrollo killed them all.

Chrollo curses to himself. Him, developing a conscience? Not at all. A functional relationship with Kurapika is merely useful.

Chrollo hesitates. As he waits, he senses an intense aura soaring up the stairs behind him. The aura of Nanika/Alluka.

Sensing an interesting opportunity, Chrollo retreats into the no-longer-secret stairwell.

“Mr. Lucilfer!” Nanika grabs his hand, and he is once more breathless at the raw nen of this creature. So breathless he forgets they’re supposed to be hidden. “They’re going to kill them all!”

 

* * *

 

“Do you mean to frighten us? I’ve faced worse than a spoiled Prince.” Kurapika leaps in front of Oito. He summons his chains. _Control your eyes._

“I see.” Tserriednich laughs. “What are you? A conjurer? Lucky for you, Chain Boy, and unluckily for Woble, I have no interest in your petty life. Or even Oito’s.”

Oito sucks in a breath. She holds Woble closer to her. She will die before she lets her stepson hurt Woble.

“You aren’t touching the Prince, monster.” Kurapika conjures another chain. He swings it towards the prince.

Tserriednich merely laughs. “I am a specialist. Your nen cannot defeat me.”

He calmly allows Kurapika’s chains to strike him. Though made of nen, they rust and rot until they crumble to putrid dust.

Kurapika’s chest tightens. There’s a _whoosh_ to his right, and before he can react, the Guardian throws Kurapika backwards. His head cracks into the wall, and for second, he sees nothing but blinding light.

Tserreidnich laughs. “This is fun, is it not?”

Ignoring his blurred vision, Kurapika summons his dousing chain. The Prince isn’t lying. He is _enjoying_ their fear.

There’s only one option. Well, two, but Kurapika is not ready for the second.

Kurapika glances at Oito and Woble. He hopes she doesn’t react poorly to his secret. “ _Unluckily_ for you, Prince, I too am a specialist. Under certain circumstances.”

He bows his head, sniffs, and raises his eyes once again. They smolder scarlet, and Oito gasps in the background.

Kurapika speaks steadily, as if teaching an infant, as he climbs back to his feet. “You have collected my people’s eyes as if they were objects for your amusement. My eyes are the last things you will ever see.”

Tserriednich’s eyes glitter with greed at the sight of Scarlet Eyes in a living, breathing being.

“I’d leave if I were you.” Kurapika activates Stealth Dolphin. He doesn’t know what kind of abilities this loathesome cockroach might have, but he knows the prince is too dangerous to keep them.

Tserriednich dodges and touches the Dolphin. Again, it begins to rust, but not before swimming back to Kurapika.

It sinks its teeth into him. Kurapika feels his heart shudder as the dolphin fades, as if he himself is losing part of his life.

He feels himself fall to the floor, without a care, until he strikes the wood. The pain reverberates into his mind, reminding him why he is fighting now.

He can’t give up.

He’s a bodyguard. This is his duty.

If he – if he uses his Chain Jail on the prince, he will surely save Oito and Woble.

But then he will die. Without achieving his goal.

He meets Oito’s wet eyes. Is his goal – the goal of appeasing the dead – worth more than saving the living?

He is not yet that desperate.

Kurapika forces himself up again on shaky legs, only to feel Tserriednich’s foot crush his windpipe. He gags and pushes back, but holy hell, this prince is strong.

“I see, I see. I never realized how beautiful Scarlet Eyes were when you are alive.” Tserreidnich kneels atop him. His fingers trace Kurapika’s eye sockets.

“Do you know when they’re the most beautiful? I can guess. I guess they’re the most beautiful when they’re being carved,” whispers the prince.

Kurapika growls, finally able to catch his breath. “Oito, run!”

“Ah,” says Tserriednich, “see, that’s the problem. Woble is so young, so easy, a plum ripe for picking. My guardian can’t attack Woble, but she can hurt those people my little baby sister depends upon. I consider this simply practice for the remainder of the succession.”

He snaps his fingers, and the Guardian throws Oito to the ground.

Woble wails, and it’s all her mother can do to wrap her falling body around her baby. _Please, not like this. Not like this._

“Don’t touch her!” Kurapika spits blood. He feels his eyes burn brighter and brighter, more beautiful in his anguish.

It’s true, what Chrollo said. His one weakness is his care for others.

And he can’t control himself.

“Oh good, can’t have you die too quickly,” purrs Tserriednich. “Would you like to watch?”

Kurapika squeezes his eyes shut, to buy as little time as he can. _Alluka, where are you?_ The prince doesn’t know about her yet, right?

The prince’s fingernails form a circle around Kurapika’s eyes. Oito screams as loud as she can, because Kurapika’s eyelids begin to rot away.

“Shut up, you whore!” Tserriednich hurls something at her, and Oito feels her mouth melting. Her limbs, too, grow weak, as if decaying from the inside.

Kurapika seethes as his eyelids finally finish melting. He has to laugh at the goo blocking his vision now.

“Can’t have that.” Tserriednich’s soft hands wipe Kurapika’s pureed flesh and eyelashes away. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

Kurapika shrinks away, not because he has any hope of escaping, but for time. Time. Anything, everything for time.

He bites Tserriednich’s hand, releasing his inner animal. Tserreidnich slaps him, and Kurapika once more feels like he’d enjoy killing someone.

The prince leers at the eyes roaring with bloodlust. “You’re a beautiful toy.”

Then he forces Kurapika’s face foreward, and Oito tenses, because she’s going to die and then who will love Woble?

She doesn’t hear the cabin door burst open, but she does see Tserriednich flung across the cabin.

“My, oh my. Why on earth does a prince need to break into another cabin?” Chrollo Lucilfer stands there, nen book raised. His eyes smoke, and arrows glow on each of his palms.


	10. Crossed

**Chapter Ten**

**Crossed**

 

Kurapika gasps with relief at the sight of Chrollo, as ironic as the moment is. The prince jerks him backwards, as if he’s a shield, a useless doll failing in his duties.

 _Not now_ , Kurapika commands his mind. He can hate himself later, when Woble and Oito are alive.

“Who the hell are you?” Tserreidnich spits.

“Mmm, I don’t believe you deserve to know,” Chrollo replies. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he scans the room.

Kurapika is restrained by that worm. His beautiful eyes are bleeding, and Chrollo realizes with revulsion that he’s already missing his eyelids.

The prince is quite the opportunist, isn’t he. He must be strong, because Chrollo himself lost to the Chain User before. Impressive.

Ah. That’s what he’s searching for. The queen appears to be held down, protecting her child, by something invisible. The guardian the Zoldyck child claimed only she could see, most likely. Perfect.

Chrollo feigns a move towards the prince before throwing his hands out above Queen Oito.

Convert Hands works as he expects, because suddenly his image is holding Oito down, and Chrollo is invisible.

The guardian leaps towards where Chrollo last was, but he’s already knocked Tserreidnich in his repulsive face.

The prince claws at Kurapika’s eyes, and Kurapika summons his Chain Jail. It flies to Chrollo’s invisible wrist.

Chrollo uses the prince’s surprise to drag Kurapika free, to his side. The guardian, still a Chrollo figurine, flies at them.

The Kurta kicks the guardian away and releases Chrollo’s hand from his chains. He dives between their enemies and Oito, as is his duty.

“Did you enjoy kicking my face?” Chrollo can’t resist calling.

“I never thought I’d appreciate seeing it,” Kurapika admits, forsaking his pride, just this once.

Chrollo keeps his bookmark on Convert Hands and flips to Indoor Fish.

Kurapika waves his hand, and a dolphin manifests before Chrollo.

“Okay, that is not Indoor Fish,” Chrollo murmurs.

“I am at times a specialist,” Kurapika says. “Stealth Dolphin will tell us what kind of abilities we’re facing.” His voice darkens. “And perhaps take them.”

“What if we make it a contest to see who can steal this rot first?” Chrollo can’t resist a quip.

Kurapika hisses. “Use your hands to switch with the dolphin.”

It’s not a bad idea. Chrollo obeys. Stealth Dolphin vanishes, and Tserreidnich flails about against something he can’t see.

Chrollo emerges as a very large dolphin, and has to laugh at himself.

Tserreidnich lunges forward, but he hits nothing.

“Capture the beast with your chains,” Dolphin Chrollo orders.

Kurapika shakes his head. “I can only use them on your troupe, lest I die.”

Chrollo briefly contemplates smashing Kurapika’s face into the wall once they’ve survived. “Well then. Indoor Fish.”

Two sinister fish emerge, slithering towards the beast shaped like Chrollo.

“His Hatsu is rotting things back to their original molecules,” Kurapika says, narrating Stealth Dolphin’s information.

Should he steal it? Does he even want such an ability?

The bony fish slams the guardian against the wall, sipping from its neck.

To everyone’s surprise, the guardian suddenly turns to Tserreidnich. It crawls off the wall and clutches his aura.

“Get off!” Tserriednich jerks away, but the creature has already sucked enough aura to send him into Zetsu…and then unconscious.

It fades away as Tserreidnich falls to the floor.

“You may kill him, if you wish,” Chrollo hears himself say, returning to his true form. He steps forward, glaring down at the unconscious wretch beneath him. Perhaps he can ask Feitan to cut off his eyelids. He might even enjoy watching.

Kurapika steps forward, and Chrollo feels…disappointment.

“No,” slurs Oito from behind. “Kurapika… my shtepshon.”

“And a murderer,” Chrollo says, kicking the prince.

Oito glares at him. Her jaw is still slack from whatever the prince as decayed in her face, but her eyes are hard.

“Holy Chain.” Kurapika summons a chained cross, not unlike the tattoo on Chrollo’s forehead, and presses it to her mouth. As Chrollo watches with interest, one eye still on the unconscious prince, Oito’s face resets.

“Thank you, Kurapika.” Oito sighs.

“What do you want done with Tserreidnich?” Kurapika’s fingers itch. He can kill the prince, and then the eyes are for his taking. He won’t have to steal.

“Call the captain. Put him in the brig.” Oito sets her jaw.

“Are you certain?” Kurapika demands. “He’s a threat as long as he lives.”

Oito draws herself up. “Kurapika! You are my bodyguard, and I insist.”

Kurapika’s shoulders slouch, but Chrollo is certain there’s relief in his ravaged eyes. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“My, oh my, haven’t the mighty fallen.” Captain Baha – whom Kurapika can’t respect since discovering his true identity – crosses his arms.

Tserriednich is carried out of Oito’s chambers with chains and little ceremony. Fitting.

“My apologies, Queen.” The Captain dips his head to her. His eyes, however, wrinkle as if hiding a smile.

No doubt he’s enjoying the debacle. Chrollo rolls his eyes.

“Alluka saved the day,” says Kurapika, nodding to the girl who stands nervously in a corner, as if expecting to be yelled at, banished, or otherwise harmed.

“Indeed.” Chrollo bows to Alluka, and the Captain claps his hands.

“How marvelous.”

“Alluka! Alluka!” Killua and Gon race into the cabin.

“What happened?” Gon cries.

“We just saw Leorio carried away on a stretcher,” Killua adds.

“He’ll be all right,” Kurapika says.

Killua regards Chrollo, whose presence is certainly unanticipated. “Do tell the story.”

“I think Alluka should,” Chrollo says smoothly. “Since she’s the heroine.”

Alluka buries her head in her hands. “No, it was you and Kurapika…”

“Kurapika, what happned to your eyes?” Gon spouts.

“Oh.” Kurapika gingerly reached to his head. “That’s a thing.”

“Kurapika, you must heal yourself,” Queen Oito says, rocking her child. “Woble will be okay.”

“No one will harm you,” says Killua, turning his hand into a claw. “We’ll protect.”

“If I may,” offers the captain, “my husband is a trained assassin. He may also be a guard while yours are treated.”

“And he’s also my brother,” Killua says.

Oito blinks. “Very well, then. You have an interesting family.”

“That’s one word for them.” Killua turns back to Alluka. “Now, tell me your story.”

* * *

 

“You should sit down.” Chrollo tugs Kurapika into his cabin and waits as Kurapika presses his chain to his eyes, which twitch with a desperate instinct to blink.

“Here.” Chrollo grabs the chain and holds it to Kurapika’s eyes, which have faded back to brown, not unlike drying blood. They’re still very pretty, he muses.

His presence is awkward, but he doesn’t want to leave.

“Never thought you’d be healing Scarlet Eyes, huh?” Kurapika manages.

Chrollo half-smiles. “No. No, I did not.”

Kurapika forces a laugh. “Th – thank you.”

“Never thought you’d say that, huh?” Chrollo can’t resist. He feels too comfortable close to Kurapika, so he must sabotage this.

Kurapika flicks his fingers at him. A rather pleasant response, all things considered.

“Here we are, two specialists and nen thieves. We’re more alike than I thought,” Chrollo says lightly, unable to fully shake his self-punishment.

“Ha.” Kurapika says instead of laughing. He pulls away from his Holy Chain, blinking his new eyelids in relief. “I don’t use it for fun.”

“You should try.” Chrollo flutters his eyelashes.

Kurapika flutters them back, enjoying the sensation of new lashes, though his voice remains serious. “I refuse to allow that. I even set conditions so that I can’t.”

“Conditions?” Chrollo’s mouth dries.

Kurapika looks at the ceiling. His voice wobbles despite his desire to appear steadfast. “Every minute I spend in my specialist state, an hour is shaved off my life.”

Chrollo is speechless for a minute. “So…I must summarize. If you use your – very useful, even I can admit that – chains against anyone but us Spiders, you die, and if you steal nen, you lose hours of your lifespan?”

“Precisely,” Kurapika says stiffly, still trying to pretend he isn’t bothered. But he won’t meet Chrollo’s furious gaze. “My life for power. Isn’t that how it always goes?”

“You’re a masochist.” Chrollo narrows his eyes. “Why? Trying to atone for survival? Trying to rejoin souls that have long left this place? Or perhaps both?”

Kurapika gasps. “Shut up.”

“And here I thought you wanted to punish us for the sake of your clansmen and women. But it’s just to atone for your own guilt, isn’t it?” Chrollo marvels at the man before him.

“No!” Kurapika jumps up to grab Chrollo by his coat. He shakes him, desperate to shake off the feelings that come with Chrollo. “No, it’s not _just_ guilt!”

Tears spring to his eyes. He steps back, shoulders quaking. “It’s not. It isn’t.”

“I killed them. Not you.” Chrollo might sound cold, but he hopes that through his coldness, Kurapika might not blame himself. Because it’s just illogical.

“Think of me as a more capable version of Tserriednich,” Chrollo adds.

“Huh?” Kurapika wrinkles his nose as Chrollo guides him back to a sitting position at the edge of his bed.

“It was like looking in a mirror.” Chrollo settles besides the Chain Bastard who might just be a pathetic friend. “Though we used other weapons to carve their eyes out.”

He reaches into his pocket, holds his Ben’s knife out in the light. “This was what I used.”

Ugh. It’s too ornate, too shiny, too pretty for murder. But isn’t that always how it is? Kurapika is too pretty a friend, so he must murder their relationship, however feeble it is.

“It’s poisoned, isn’t it?” Kurapika touches the hilt gingerly. Perhaps the last thing his family saw.

“You’re smart.”

“What changed, then?” Kurapika pushes the knife back. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. He’d too tired. “Today, I mean.”

“I know you.” Chrollo sighs. “Perhaps your friend Gon was right. Perhaps I do kill people because I don’t know them. Because I’m afraid of them. Too many people, too many variables, too much potential for beauty or despair. How can I keep living unless I see people as nothing more than puppets? Am I word-vomiting right now?”

“A bit.” Kurapika wants to be angry, but right now he is too spent. And grateful to be alive. He’ll be angry later. “Considering you just saved my life, I’m more grateful to you for an explanation.”

“That’s an odd response. But then, you have always been odd.” Chrollo smiles impishly.

“May I see your book?” Kurapika inquires suddenly. Because he may never get another chance to satisfy his curiosity, and somehow, he feels like Chrollo wants him to.

“Going to kill me with it?” Chrollo hands the leatherbound book to Kurapika, who is surprised by its lightness. “I call it Bandit’s Secret.”

“Of course you do.” Kurapika flips through the pages.

“The blank ones belong to those who have died. Their abilities vanish,” Chrollo says.

“Did Neon’s vanish, then?” Kurapika asks, though he already knows the answer.

So he does know what Chrollo did. Unsurprising. Chrollo purses his lips.

“She was a pleasant girl. I wished no harm upon her,” he says uncomfortably.

“That wasn’t enough. Because there was harm, in the end.” Kurapika squeezes his eyes shut. “I was released from my duties alongside the rest of the guards, because there was no pay.”

“You didn’t leave, no doubt.”

“I did.” Kurapika blows out his breath.

“Oh.”

“I went off to threaten another Mafioso about his eyes. I succeeded, threatening him before the altar of a church, and returned to find that they made her and her father into another collection.”

He laughs. His stomach still turns at the memories. “I’m as villainous as you.”

“Well, you’re not exactly inciting my sorrow for killing the mafia in Yorknew right now,” Chrollo says. Neon, Neon was full of life, fluorescent just like her name. Shallow life, but still life. “Again, you didn’t kill her. The mafia did. I’m more to blame, or even her father for pimping her gift to unsavory old men in suits, than you.”

It does no good to mourn her, but a part of him does, anyhow. Neon didn’t believe in the afterlife, but he wonders if she did when she realized there was only a second left in her time on Earth. Most people probably do.

“Perhaps she’s met your clan already,” Chrollo suggests.

“Perhaps she’s met Pakunoda and Uvogin,” Kurapika replies, and Chrollo shakes his head.

“Uvogin would adore her. Pakunoda wouldn’t put up with such nonsense.”

“Uvogin…” Kurapika shifts slightly, just away from Chrollo. “You once asked me what his last words were.”

Chrollo is taken aback. “Do you still remember? After all this time?”

“I don’t want to forget.” Kurapika looks back at him. “They were ‘Get lost. Fool.’”

The Phantom Troupe leader begins to laugh, to Kurapika’s shock.

“Of course they were.” Chrollo wipes his eyes. “I should have guessed. That’s exactly like Uvogin.”

Kurapika shakes his head. “He wouldn’t answer my damn questions.”

“He loved the Spider. See, love can exist even among twisted, murderous thieves.” Chrollo pokes Kurapika in his nose.

“Touch my nose again and I’ll steal your nen this time.” Kurapika holds Bandit’s Secret behind his back.

“I’ll steal it back. I’m more accomplished as a thief, remember?” Chrollo grabbles for the book.

“Back off!” Kurapika srambles back, waving the book just out of Chrollo’s reach.

The men can’t help but laugh as Chrollo finally tackles Kurapika.

“Victory.” Chrollo smirks.

The Troupe leader finds his skin prickling wherever he touches this man. And, perhaps subconsciously, or perhaps not, he lingers above Kurapika.

His fingers latch around his book, his head hangs over Kurapika’s face, he feels his breath meet the breath of the young man who damned himself, and he can’t help but wonder what kissing him, what taking Kurapika and making him his, would feel like.

“What’s wrong?” Kurapika sounds confused. And innocent.

A voice from Oito’s room interrupts them.

“Just what am I hearing about the Prince trying to kill Danchou? Where is he? I said _move_ , Illumi.” The door between cabins swings open.

“Oh dear,” says Chrollo, making no attempt to move himself.

Machi’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

Danchou.

On a bed.

Practically lying atop the Chain Bastard.

“ _What the hell_?!”


	11. Is This Regret?

**Chapter Eleven**

**Is This Regret?**

 

“What – I just – how – he’s here – why – what the hell is happening?” Machi sputters. “I did not help find you a nen exorcist for this!”

“Have I been bad?” Chrollo can’t resist asking.

Kurapika finally recognizes the position he’s in. “Wait! Fuck off!”

Right? Because he definitely didn’t notice before. He was just…enjoying time with Chrollo. Almost.

“Fucking off now.” Chrollo sits up, allowing Kurapika to draw back.

Kurapika feels like fleeing down the hallway and screaming. Because he feels something, something physical, and he’s horrified by his body’s reaction. Thank heavens, if there is one, and he needs there to be one, for loose tribal attire.

“Why is he here?” Machi points at Kurapika.

“This prince hunted the queen for her baby and this one for his eyes,” Chrollo says calmly. “I merely assisted, after Illumi and Kalluto’s sister found me and pled for help.”

“But the _chain_ bastard? You knew he was here?” Machi is ready to wrap her nen stitches around the blonde’s neck, drain his life away until he dies.

“Yes.” Chrollo keeps his voice even. “We’ve made an agreement not to hunt each other.”

“And you trust him?” Machi’s instincts tell her the same, though her head is thoroughly confused.

“He approached me, actually. He’d end his vengeance for Hisoka’s life to be spared.”

Machi steps closer, eying Kurapika. “And why would you offer this?”

Kurapika’s voice is thin. “For my friends. What else is there?”

“I understand,” Machi says, and Kurapika’s heart sinks again, because once more he is empathizing with the murderers of his clan.

He can’t just call them murderers, he realizes. Somewhere along his conversations with Chrollo, he’s identified as one, and he’s unsure if that’s good or bad. Or perhaps it just is.

“I should be going.” Chrollo stands, and Kurapika is too conflicted to protest.

“Do you know why Illumi is sulking? Is sex with Hisoka that bad?” Machi hisses as they leave.

Kurapika throws himself down on his bed, inhaling the spot where Chrollo had been. He smells like expensive, stolen cologne, and Kurapika tries to convince himself he just likes the scent.

 

* * *

 

“Aren’t you proud of Alluka, Illumi?” Killua asks sweetly.

Illumi stares wordlessly at his brother. _Dig the knife in a little slower, why don’t you?_

Killua’s eyes narrow as his brother refuses to answer. Of all the times.

“Illumi, I want to be your friend, too.” Alluka’s chin quivers.

And still, Illumi can only stare.

“Why do you hate her?” Killua asks the question Illumi hoped she wouldn’t.

“You know I don’t.”

“You didn’t. You just wanted to keep the family safe, but now you do. I can see it in your eyes.” Killua points up at his brother.

“Illumi hates me?” Alluka looks stricken. Killua glares at him, and Oito watches in dismay.

Illumi feels truly alone.

“Illumi hates you because he has a conscience, doesn’t he?” Gon says from behind Illumi.

“You – shut up – you started all of this, Gon.” Illumi clenches his hands into fists.

“Really, because I stabbed Mom and ran off without even knowing Gon, and Nanika was already living among us,” Killua says dryly.

“Illumi hates Alluka because Alluka reminds him how he failed. Alluka reminded him that he’s weak. Just like I hated Pitou for reminding me how I failed Kite.” Gon takes a deep breath.

Illumi’s mouth twists. Is this – is this interloping demon defending him?

“He’s not a monster. He’s just sad and alone,” Gon says, as tears spring to his eyes.

“I’m neither.” Illumi has a family. He’s never alone. And emotions aren’t necessary.

So why do Gon’s words flummox him?

“You’re both, and I don’t need nen to tell that,” Oito says, and how can Illumi interrupt a queen? “Illumi, would you like to hold Woble?”

Killua is perplexed. “Why –”

“Shh. Babies have a magic you haven’t learned yet, young one.” Oito slides Woble into Illumi’s arms.

The assassin’s face lights up.

Killua was once this small. Illumi remembers holding him, blissful that he had a brother who wasn’t Milluki. Teaching Killua how to read, and feeling pride every time Mother and Father praised Killua’s development. Because by proxy, they were praising him, too.

“Maybe someday you and Hisoka will have one,” Gon says.

Killua winces. He and Gon need to talk one of these days.

“The Captain?” Oito frowns.

“You can adopt,” Killua encourages. “And have your own kids.”

“I don’t need my own.” Illumi looks tragic. “I have you.”

“You can bring all of your kids on Milluki’s vacation,” Killua tries.

“Hmm?”

“Milluki likes me. He wants to take us all on a vacation.” Alluka smiles hopefully. _Love me, Illumi. Please?_

“Vacation?” Illumi can’t help the feeling of hope, of sunlight, of laughter, that haunts him with that word. He’s never had one, never thought he needed one – but he does need time with his family. “Oh, but that would mean not working.”

 “It will be fun,” Gon says. “You need fun.”

 “Assassins don’t…” Illumi looks thoughtful. “But still, I am not opposed to this idea.”

Gon and Killua exchange grins. Perhaps, even Illumi can learn.

* * *

 

         “Hey, friend.” Kurapika waves towards Leorio, who sits up groggily.

         “What happened?” God, Leorio has the mother of all headaches. And he remembers nothing.

         He squints to refocus his vision. He’s in a room with small, rough cots and what appears to be rudimentary medical equipment. The ship’s infirmary.

         Melody lies in the bed beside him.

         “Prince Tserriednich attacked,” Kurapika explains. He sits between his two friends, guarding them with care. “And I didn’t have enough aura to heal both of you _and_ the queen, so you and Melody are here in the infirmary.”

         “Don’t worry about it.” Leorio shakes his head. “You weren’t hurt?”

         Kurapika shrugs. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

         “That’s Kurapika talk for ‘I was hurt badly,’” Melody announces, though her eyes are still closed.

         “Well, I’m fine now,” Kurapika insists.

         Leorio side-eyes his friend, but decides to let his questions slide. “And where is our friend Tserreidnich now?”

         “The brig. Alive, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kurapika lowers his head.

         “I expected no less from you, Kurapika,” Leorio says, and Kurapika shivers, because he doesn’t deserve such confidence.

         The door opens, and Kurapika’s lips part as Chrollo Lucilfer enters, instead of the doctor he expected.

         “Hey, what’s he doing here?” Leorio croaks.

         Chrollo waits, looking at Kurapika.

         Kurapika blows out his breath. “To be honest, the prince was…a difficult opponent. Chrollo saved all of us. Alluka found him…before the prince...”

         He doesn’t want to admit it. That the prince saw him only as eyes, just like everyone else ever has, and made him his plaything. Made him weak. Reminded him that he will never not be Other.

         “You’re sure you’re okay?” Leorio asks, peering closer.

         “Alluka saved all of you, really.” Chrollo smiles softly as he interrupts Leorio’s prying gaze. “I just wanted to see how you are doing.”

         “Ha! This is a change of pace. I like everyone getting along, don’t you?” Leorio settles back down.

         Melody gestures Chrollo over. He approaches tentatively, recalling how easily she read him. Like a second Pakunoda, but kinder and gentler, and he knows Paku would agree.

         She beckons him to lean towards her, and, despite casting Kurapika a strange look, Chrollo obeys.

         “Your heart says we weren’t the ones you wanted to see.”

         Chrollo stands up straight. His mouth flattens into a thin line. Dammit. Of course, of course she can hear how his heart skipped when he saw Kurapika.

         Still. He will ignore her.

         “Huh? What’s with that look?” Leorio demands.

         “Did he threaten you?” Kurapika exclaims. Even though he knows Melody said something, not Chrollo, he has to demean Chrollo. Because he is still angry that Machi caught them in a compromising position. A compromising position his mind hadn’t even recognized before his disgusting body had reacted.

         “Telepathy is not an ability I’ve stolen yet,” Chrollo replies, and Leorio laughs nervously.

         “I said that his heart says he’s happy to see _you_ , Kurapika,” Melody says pointedly.

         Chrollo’s cheeks flush.

         Kurapika grimaces. “No, he’s – I mean – we – he’s probably just glad I’m not off slitting Machi’s throat.”

         “I trust you more than that.” Chrollo rolls his eyes.

         “It’s not mutual,” Kurapika gripes.

         “This is how our friendship started, too. The bickering.” Leorio nods in affirmation. “You’re cool, Spider.”

         “We were a good team, admit it, Kura.” Chrollo extends a hand to Kurapika.

         Kura isn’t as terrible a nickname as he thought. Kurapika makes a face, but he shakes Chrollo’s hand. “Yes, I suppose we were.”

         “How pleasant, the two of your heartbeats when you’re holding hands,” Melody observes.

         “What?!” Kurapika leaps to his feet and palms Chrollo straight in the heart.

         “Do I need my flute?” Melody sings.

         “That was hardly fair, Kura.” Chrollo’s eyes twinkle, but he’s unsettled, too. Both of theirs? So Kurapika…

         Kurapika does…

         “If you think about it,” Chrollo adds, because he can’t resist crossing lines and, in fact, has never been able to resist, “my fee – friendship, I mean, is a perfect way to torture me as vengeance.”

         “That’d be a good idea, except it came from you.” Kurapika snorts. “Besides, wasn’t all vengeance off-limits? Even the nonviolent kind?”

         Chrollo taps his chin. “Hmm, I don’t believe you specified.”

         “So it’s my fault?!” Kurapika balls his hands into fists, but he’s laughing.

         “Like I said,” Leorio narrates, “the bickering is the start of a lifelong relationship.”

* * *

 

         _It’s party time_. Chrollo sends a cake emoji to his fellow Spiders.

         _Don’t go too wild – Your Captain_ , responds Illumi’s number.

         _Hisoka you are NOT allowed on our group chat_ , Machi writes immediately.

         _Do you want me to kill you_? Phinks puts in.

 _You can’t._ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

         _Give Illumi back his phone,_ Chrollo commands.

         _Not a chance, but I’ll pass the message along._ (-■_■)

         Chrollo shakes his head as he cracks open the stairwell door. The guards are still there, though they’re no longer working for the Prince.

         Son they will work for Daddy Dearest, the Kakin king, and in the chaos he’s is about to lose much of his treasure.

         And frankly, he deserves it. Chrollo doesn’t spend much time debating useless qualities like ‘deserve,’ but surely if anyone deserves to lose a fortune, it is a king who forces his children to fight to the death.

         But the King will surely suspect Tserriednich of hiding his treasure, rather than thieves. And while Chrollo is no sadist, he does not pity Tserriednich.

         This all hinges on Illumi’s manipulation. Killing guards would just be suspicious right now.

         Soft voices approach. Nobu, Feitan, Bono and Phinks.

         “Maybe you can find a ring,” Nobunaga whispers to Feitan, who responds by shoving him into Phinks.

         “What’s this about?” Chrollo asks, baffled.

         “Feitan has a girlfriend,” Phinks announces, a bit too loudly.

         “Shhh.” Franklin appears behind them.

         “You shut up.” Feitan looks like he swallowed a lemon.

         “And he came to us all nervous like a true Romeo, asking for advice.” Bonolenov clutches his heart.

         Chrollo chuckles. “I see. Good for you, Feitan.”

         “Do you want to die?” Feitan’s face is now the color of Machi’s hair.

         “Infighting isn’t allowed,” Chrollo says sweetly.

         Feitan snorts. “Don’t mention to the girls, okay?”

         “Why? You think they’re gonna be jealous?” Phinks grins.

         Chrollo groans as loud as he dares. Well, good for Feitan. At least one person in his troupe can achieve romance.

         “Hey there.” Machi sauntrs down the stairs with Illumi. They swing Kalluto between their arms.

         “If it isn’t our little traitor.” Phinks crosses his arms.

         “I’m sorry.” Kalluto turns red.

         “You’re not,” Shizuku says as she hurries up the stairwell.

         “I _am_ sorry to have betrayed you.” Kalluto looks anguished again, and Machi pats his shoulder.

         “You’re forgiven,” Chrollo says warmly. Of all the decisions the spiders made while Kurapika sealed his nen, accepting Kalluto into the group is the one Chrollo favors most. “I do trust and rely on you, Kalluto.”

         The child, who’s been drowning in ennui since Illumi’s induction to the troupe, or perhaps since he couldn’t partake in Alluka’s rescue, finally looks happy to be alive again.

         “We all do,” Phinks grumbles. “Brat.”

         “Illumi, your turn.” Chrollo sweeps open the door.

         Illumi’s hypnotic pins fly out, striking all three guards directly between their eyes. “They won’t remember a thing.”

         “Good.” Chrollo watches as Illumi snaps his fingers. The guards turn slowly, jerkily, and punch in the passcode.

         “We have two hours until their shift change, from what I noticed,” Franklin says.

         “Excellent.” Nobunaga saunters towards the now-open vault. “Don’t share any of this with your husband, Illumi.”

         “I like Illumi better anyway,” Shizuku says.

         Illumi is not accustomed to people liking him. For a moment, he doesn't know what to say.

         “Weird not to be killing anyone,” Phinks grumbles.

         “We’re on a ship with nowhere to run,” Chrollo says. And that’s true, right?

         They could make it look like an accident. Certainly. A byproduct of the succession contest. Then they could kill.

         But Kurapika would know, and Chrollo isn’t eager to break their fragile treaty. For the Spiders’ sake. Definitely. Not his own.

         Nobunaga grabs a fistful of gold coins and tosses them in the air. He spins in the golden rain just like Uvogin used to.

         Chrollo smiles softly.

         Ahead, there are the furs of endangered animals, and even the horn of a unicorn.

         “I’ve never seen one before.” Shizuku touches it as if it is holy.

         “It’s beautiful,” Chrollo agrees.

         There’s a collection of ancient books he’s going to have to steal and keep for a while, just to admire. But beyond them, he sees whathe’s really looking for: a pair of scarlet eyes.

         Chrollo steps closer.

         “Oh good, more of those,” Phinks says with derision.

         Machi shakes her head, but for now she stays quiet about Chrollo’s secret.

         “Interesting. There’s a defect in these.” Chrollo doesn’t remember a pair with a brown fleck in the right corner, but he probably just didn’t care then. He was too enraptured with the otherworldly grace that was their scarlet.

         “You taking them, boss?” asks Franklin, eagerly examining the engraved gun collection.

         “Yes,” Chrollo says, and he feels the heat of Machi’s glare on his back.

         “I wish Uvogin and Pakunoda hadn’t died for those,” Nobunaga says, somber.

         “Me too.” Chrollo wonders if he would have spared the Kurtas had he known where this would lead. And yet, if he had spared them, he wouldn’t get to partake in his delectable verbal sparring matches with Kurapika. “I imagine they’re laughing at us right now.”

         Chrollo has never thought much about redoing his life. There’s no point. Regret is wasted energy. But as he looks at the eyes dangling in their crystal glass, the eyes that bind his attention despite the volumes of rich books behind him, he wonders and wonders.

         “Uvogin is probably still trying to persuade some Deity to kill Hisoka,” Phinks remarks.

         “Ha! I’m surprised Hisoka hasn’t been hit with lightning yet given his own blasphemies,” Illumi says. “Much less the wrath of a deity.”

         The Spiders laugh, and Illumi is shaken. No one ever laughs at anything he says, like they enjoy his presence. Is he straying from his identity again?

         “Everything is so pretty!” Kalluto collapses in a pile of rainbowed jewels. “I love treasure.”

         “Assassins shouldn’t care about treasure,” Illumi says, though he’s admiring a misshapen human brain. What must this person have been like? A formidable opponent, or a pathetic burden? “Just the job.”

         “Well, I care about both.” Kalluto sniffs.

         “Here.” Feitan hands Kalluto a necklace with a round, light blue gemstone the size of a heart. “You like sparkly things.”

         Kalluto beams as he slips it into his bag. “I love it.” He glances at Illumi before continuing. “It’s the color of Alluka’s eyes. I’m going to give it to her as a present.”

         “Nice of you,” Feitan says with approval. Machi nods behind him.

         Illumi looks downcast. Perhaps, Chrollo thinks, there are things he’d redo in his life if given the opportunity, too.

 

 

_***Kurapika's thanks for tribal attire  resulted from a conversation with Hamliet, so kudos to her._


	12. Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short. Sweet. NSFW.

**Chapter Twelve**

**Horizon**

            “Illumi, what are you doing here again?” Kurapika frowns as the assassin enters the Queen’s chambers.

            “Giving you another chance to rest. Captain’s orders.” Illumi waves his long fingers. “Go sleep or train or whatever it is you do.”

            “I suppose you wouldn’t know rest,” Kurapika jabs.

            “Rest is for the dead.” And usually not the newlywed, but Hisoka won’t even give Illumi that, and Illumi is growing more despondent by the day.

            There’s no love for him, anywhere, is there?

            Kurapika hesitates, but Oito points to the door. “Go, Kurapika. You’re a faithful bodyguard, but I’d also have you be an alert one.”

            Kurapika has to laugh as he stumbles back into his quarters. These last few days have been exhausting.

            His phone buzzes the second he lies down. As if on cue.

_Come to my cabin. I have a gift for you. – Chrollo_

            _A death contract_? Kurapika types back. Ugh, why was he happy to give his number to Chrollo?

            _Why on earth would I give you what you want?_

            Kurapika can’t argue with that. He struggles off his cot and shuffles to Chrollo’s room.

            He passes Machi in the corridor. She narrows her eyes at him, but continues on her way without incident.

            The door is unlocked, but there’s no Chrollo to be seen. Kurapika instinctively summons his chains.

            There’s a soft red glow in the corner. Kurapika steps closer, and his blood promptly freezes.

            An ornate glass container, housing two eyes that stare back at him.

            A cry emerges from Kurapika’s lips as he stumbles forward to grab the capsule. So, the Spiders did raid the Prince’s storage, and yet…this is his? He won’t have to threaten and maim anyone?

            Kurapika examines them closer, and tears fill his eyes.

There’s a defect in the left eye. A brown triangle.

Just like Pairo’s.

“Why?” Kurapika’s hands shake.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you noticed my presence.” Chrollo steps out from the closet with a sigh.

“What did you do – how?” Kurapika clutches the glass case. He sinks to his knees and fails to suppress a sob. “The dark fleck – these are Pairo’s eyes.”

Chrollo swallows. Any response he gives in this moment will be lame. “I wish I’d gotten a chance to know him.”

Kurapika starts. This is the closest Chrollo has ever come to an apology. To regret. “Really?”

“I don’t say words I don’t mean.” Chrollo feels inadequate, no, beyond inadequate. He caused this, he hurt Pairo and Kurapika, and all he can do is retrieve one pair of eyes.

Kurapika raises his eyes to Chrollo’s. “Thank you.”

“It’s not much, is it, Kura?” Chrollo sighs.

Kurapika holds the eyes to his chest, as if he’s able to embrace Pairo again. Pairo, Pairo, everything Kurapika will ever do in life won’t amount for failing Pairo while he was alive. But the least he can do is bury these eyes. Even though it isn’t much on his part, either.

“When this is over – I can help you. Retrieve the eyes. I know I don’t deserve to help, but this is too much for you to go alone.” Chrollo waits.

“I’ve been alone since the massacre.” Kurapika wipes his eyes. His voice is small.

“No, you haven’t. What of Gon, of Leorio and Killua?” Chrollo squats besides Kurapika. “They’ll always help you.” He laughs sadly. “And you’re not even alone right now, though you may wish to be.”

“I don’t.” Kurapika grips Chrollo’s hand. “Thank you.”

The Spider tries to control his heartbeat. How the hell has the chain user wiggled so far into his feelings?

Kurapika places the eyes down and points at the fleck. “This made Pairo feel like an outsider even among us Kurta sometimes. Even before he was crippled. And then we went outside, and we were still outsiders in the outside.”

“People are cruel,” Chrollo remarks. He forces himself to admit further, to zero in on the truth like a target to kill or a treasure to seek. “ _I_ am cruel.”

“You’re not right now.” Kurapika laughs through his tears. “I’m grateful.”

“With a response like that, maybe you can be the righteous soul you fancy yourself.” Chrollo nudges Kurapika with his elbow.

“When you said you were surprised at who I was, what did you mean?” Kurapika bursts out.

Chrollo frowns. When… _Oh, yes_. “You mean when you kidnapped me?”

“Yes.” Pink haunts Kurapika’s cheeks.

“I thought you were a girl, if you recall.” Chrollo dips his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Because I was taken aback by how beautiful you were.”

“Would you have preferred me to be a woman?” Kurapika doesn’t know why he’s asking these stupid questions, but he can’t stop.

“I prefer you as you are,” Chrollo answers instead.

Kurapika laughs, just slightly.

“What’s funny?” Chrollo leans forward. His face is dangerously close to Kurapika.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Kurapika likes this feeling. Control.

Chrollo sounds insulted. “That’s something Hisoka would do, not me. I have class.”

“Oh?” Kurapika eyes him. “You, thief and murderer?”

“You? Vengeful and grief-driven?” Chrollo tosses back.

At that barb of truth, Kurapika leaps forward and latches his lips onto Chrollo’s. His dazzling enemy tastes like the horizon.

Chrollo pulls back in shock, because the world is rarely this kind. He stares at him. “Kura.”

Kurapika interrupts him with another kiss. He wants to find it, this horizon he’s chasing, this echo of freedom.

And Chrollo kisses him back, seeking the safe embrace of forgiveness and the shimmer of hope.

They kiss until blood pounds in their ears and roars in their chests, and Kurapika squeaks as he tumbles backwards, pulling Chrollo with him.

“What’s wrong?” Chrollo asks anxiously.

“Nothing,” Kurapika pants.

“Then don’t stop.” Chrollo kisses Kurapika’s neck, and the Kurta chuckles at the tickling sensation.

Kurapika feels Chrollo’s hands caress down his sides as he digs his lips back into his. He places his hand over Chrollo’s, stopping him again.

“Am I too forward, Kura?” Chrollo grins impishly, to cover how vulnerable he really feels.

“I want to,” Kurapika says impulsively, because what has care ever gotten him?

Chrollo, though surprised, nods. He pulls Kura after him, sinks onto his bed and allows the Kurta to lie atop him. And he really doesn’t mind giving up control tonight. His blood sings like the wind whistling through the trees.

Kurapika stutters at the bulge inside Chrollo’s trousers.

Chrollo regards him with a slight smile before moving Kura’s hand under his coat and into his pants.

Kurapika inhales as his hands explore deeper. Chrollo pulls off his coat, exposing the spider tattoo directly over his heart.

He’s stunned when Kurapika bends over to suck his inked skin. Reclaiming the symbol he’s for so long associated with death.

Kurapika hopes this is okay. He’s heard people do this, at least. He imagines Chrollo has had many lovers, whereas Kurapika has never touched a man or woman. When he looks up to check, Chrollo’s eyes are shining with delight.

Kurapika straightens to pull off his tunic, then his shirt. Chrollo’s fingers trace his slender chest, and he sighs with sensations that creep over him like a thousand spiders.

“You can take off my pants,” Chrollo whispers. He should be exposed first. It’s only right.

Kurapika shakes and sweats at the sight of Chrollo. He fumbles with his own trowsers, though his first insincts are still to cover himself with his hands. Because he’s never been this close to another person. Neither physically nor emotionally.

Chrollo touches his hands with a reverent finger, and Kurapika once more decides that, at least for tonight, he wants to trust Chrollo. He releases his hands and blushes at his excitement.

Chrollo/’s hands wander to grip his hips. “Do you want to go all the way?”

Kurapika nods. He wants everything. He wants to drown in Chrollo and be free.

He clutches Chrollo’s hair as Chrollo joins their bodies and moves in rhythm.

Tears fill his eyes, but he feels happy, almost delirious. Like the past has fallen away with the sun, and for tonight, he can enjoy a life with Chrollo. And so Kurapika releases himself, crying out his former enemy’s name as he releases himself into his lover’s arms, as he feels Chrollo moving inside him and whimpering his nickname, _Kura, Kura, Kura_.

**A short chapter, but there's a long fallout to come. :P**


	13. Fallout

 

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Fallout**

 

Chrollo’s eyes flutter open to see Kurapika’s bare back. His rosy skin would be a nice place for a tattoo along the echoes of his spine.

He smiles to himself, remembering the last night’s tender passions, when his former enemy became his treasure in ways he never thought possible. In ways that made him think of hope and resurrection.

He stretches to alert Kura to his wakefulness. “Good morning.”

Kurapika starts. He turns around with a sharp breath. His irises are crimson, and, to Chrollo’s dismay, so are his corneas. “I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Chrollo queries. His heart thuds, because he knows – he knows where this is headed.

“This is wrong.” Kurapika grabs his pants, though not his tunic. He doesn’t feel worthy to wear it. “I – I was lonely. That’s all.”

“Indeed. _You_ kissed _me_ , if I recall.” Chrollo offers him a sly smile, because that’s all he has. Kura had wanted him, and not just physically, he is sure of it.

“Stop it.” Kurapika lurches away. “I hate you.”

“You hate the idea of me, not me,” Chrollo says, calm as always. Of course Kura feels embarrassed; lovers always do –

“Every moment I spend with you is another moment you stole from my family,” Kurapika snaps.

Chrollo blinks. Oh. That's right. He robbed the world of one-hundred-twenty-eight Kurapikas. “Kura –”

“Just call me Kurta. I’m right, aren’t I? That’s why you nicknamed me?” Kurapika’s rage at himself boils onto the man whose bed he’s sharing. “Was it not enough just to slaughter my clan; now you need to slaughter my feelings, too? You’re just a murderer.”

For a moment they stare at each other, grey eyes meeting crimson as they fade to rusted brown blood.

Kurapika’s mouth opens as he realizes just what he said. “Chrollo. I shouldn’t –”

Chrollo holds up his hand. “You’re not wrong, are you?”

He smiles bitterly as he brushes his hair out of his face. All his fantasies are as mystical as the books he drowns his feelings in. “Go. Be free of me. Make your family proud.”

“But I –”

“Go.” Chrollo knows he should back down. He should let Kurapika talk. But he can’t – if he’s reminded of his sins one more time, he’ll drown in shame.

Because he caused this.

And he hurt the man he loves before he even knew he loved him. How many others could have loved if he hadn’t killed them?

Kurapika rushes out, leaving his tunic behind for Chrollo to watch with his own glowing eyes. But instead of blood, his glow with ghosts.

* * *

“It has to be the Spiders, right?” Leorio slouches on Kurapika’s bed. He cannot believe he was released from the hospital to find Kurapika missing. Dammit, he’s not supposed to think much with his concussion, but all he can do is think and think and think anxious thoughts.

“None of them know, excepting us,” Kalluto says, with a gesture towards Illumi, who stands with Hisoka in the corner.

“Could be someone angry about Tserriednich,” Killua says.

“You’re not calming me down, Killua.”

“Maybe he’s off getting some action,” Hisoka jokes.

“Then he’ll need help,” Gon protests.

Hisoka bites his tongue to keep from snickering at Gon’s perpetual innocence. “Okay. I’ll ask the crew to keep a lookout.”

“Mmm? Has anyone found Kura yet?” Alluka stirs.

“You’re awake.” Killua smiles.

“Nanika can find him,” Alluka says, scowling at her brother. “If you’re worried, next time, don’t wait for me to wake up.”

Killua is devastated. Has he been – overbearing? Has he been like _Illumi_?

Illumi looks away with discomfort as Nanika emerges. To his surprise, Hisoka’s fingers brush against him, as if a measly attempt at comfort.

“He’s just outside,” Nanika says, retreating inside Alluka once more.

The doorknob turns, and indeed, a half-dressed Kurapika skids to a halt in the doorway. “You’re – there’s a lot of you here.”

“We were worried about you,” Gon says sincerely.

Kurapika flushes. “Well, I’m fine.”

Hisoka has finally had enough. He guffaws. “You have an afterglow, Kurapika.”

“Huh?” Leorio squints.

“What’s that?” Gon frowns, and Killua winces.

Illumi glares at his husband. “Kalluto is in the room.”

“Kalluto walked in on Milluki and his dolls a year ago,” says Kalluto dully.

“No.” Hisoka gasps. He rolls onto the floor, cackling and striking the boards. “You what? Oh my god. Oh my god. This is too perfect.”

Illumi makes a mental note to execute some of Milluki’s larger dolls.

“I still don’t know what that is,” says Gon.

“Nothing,” Kurapika snaps, just as Leorio sidles up to him and slinks an arm around his waist.

“So, who’s the lucky lady?”

Kurapika’s breath comes quicker and quicker. “Uh.”

“I don’t think it was a lady, am I right?” Hisoka quivers with joy. He needs Kurapika to say it. He needs to hear these words. Oh, sweet God, what has he done to earn this much joy?

Kurapika pulls away from Leorio. “It – I – ”

“I didn’t realize, Kurapika,” Leorio says quickly. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“ _I’ve_ offended me!” Kurapika bursts out. “I have! I – he’s –”

“You had sex with Chrollo Lucilfer,” Hisoka summarizes, finally taking pity on the flustered young man.

Killua turns as white as his hair, but he keeps his wits about him enough to clamp a hand over Gon’s mouth.

Kurapika doubles over. “I’m a fool, Hisoka.”

“No, you have eyes, pun intended. He’s a beautiful man. I’d’ve banged him if I’d gotten the chance before getting married,” Hisoka says, inciting Illumi’s bloodlust. “Calm down, Illumi.”

Illumi seethes. So Chrollo and the Kurta kid, those enemies, unmarried enemies, partook in intimacy before he and his husband did? This is hogwash!

Kurapika sinks onto his bed, head in his hands. He feels humiliated and undone. “I…never thought I’d be the first of us to do it.”

“Who says I haven’t?” Leorio blusters.

“Me,” Kalluto sasses. “Most of the Hunter community, and many besides, saw your speech about wanking.”

“Someone needs to restrict my brother’s Internet access!” Illumi spurts.

“Okay, fine, but my point is, Kurapika, you shouldn’t be ashamed.” Leorio’s face burns.

“My family’s killer. I – made love – to _him_ ,” Kurapika says in a strangled voice.

“Do you love him? Because murderers always make the best lovers.” Hisoka rubs his hands together. “Right, Illumi?”

“I’m not a murderer. I’m an assassin.” Illumi will not give Hisoka anything he wants right now.

“Assassins are, by definition, murderers,” Killua says, and Kalluto nods.

“So am I, right? Vigilantes are killers, too.” Kurapika pulls at his hair and screams. “I _hate_ me!”

Hisoka winces. He is not able to tolerate heavy emotion well.

“Let’s leave Kurapika with his friends,” Illumi says, gliding towards the door.

“Alluka, I have a present for you in my cabin!” Kalluto pulls her out of the room and takes off down the hall, abandoning Illumi to his husband.

“Aw, you admitted Killua has friends,” Hisoka teases.

Illumi grinds his teeth. “I suppose I did.”

“It’s cute.” Hisoka dances closer to peck Illumi’s lips. “And here’s your reward.”

 

* * *

 

“The Kurta spent quite a lot of time in your room.” Machi’s arms are folded. She’s been waiting for Chrollo to exit his cabin for hours.

“So he did,” Chrollo says evenly.

They fall silent. No one dares ask the question that lingers in the air.

“Don’t you have something to ask?” Chrollo finally pressures.

“Why don’t you just give me my answer, Danchou.” Machi is well aware that she’s in no position to judge, but at least Feitan is in the group. At least Feitan hasn’t killed Uvogin and Paku.

“It won’t happen again, I’m quite sure of it.” Chrollo shakes his head.

“Did he break your heart?” Machi is aghast.

“I don’t have a heart, remember?” Chrollo laughs feebly. He forces a smile, as if his heart isn’t aching and that by lying he can make it true. After all, he’s a murderer, murderer, murderer. “If – if I can get our enemy to trust me, why not go all the way?”

“You do have a heart, and we all know it.” Machi sighs and offers her friend a wry smile. “I’m not going to fault your lonely feelings.”

“You should find a boy sometime.” Chrollo strokes his chin. “Though I’d have to approve him.”

“Hey, who said I approved your dalliance with chain bastard?” Machi shakes her fist in his face.

“You didn’t break in and kill him.” Chrollo grants her a knowing smile.

“I can hunt him down now.” Machi cocks her head.

“Please don’t. We should…let him go.” Chrollo looks at the ceiling. “Whenever we get off this wretched boat, anyways.”

Mahi hesitates. “Uh…do you want ice cream? It’s how I treat Kalluto’s heartaches.”

“As any a good doctor should,” Chrollo says, relieved to stop discussing Kurapika.

 

* * *

 

         “I’m a disgrace,” Kurapika gasps, blowing his nose in the handkerchief Leorio offers him. “I – I couldn’t save them, I can’t even find their eyes without hurting people, and I do it willingly, I hurt people and I call it necessary, and I can’t even resist the charms of the man I vowed to kill.”

         He presses a shaking hand over his mouth and shrieks.

         “I’ve been waiting for this breakdown a while,” Leorio comments.

         “Huh?” Kurapika sniffles.

         “You’re a person, Kurapika.” Killua slides over to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re one person atoning for over a hundred family members you didn’t even fail.”

         “But I did. I did fail them. I failed Pairo,” Kurapika insists. “I couldn’t even take back his eyes.”

         “Did you find them?” Gon asks.

         “Chrollo gave them to me.” Kurapika’s face crumples. “They’re still in his room.”

         “Did he ask for payment?!” Leorio’s face turns purple with premature rage.

         “No, I – I just wanted to. I wanted to stop caring and pretend I could move on,” Kurapika whines.  
         “You can’t.” Gon says.

         “Gon?” Killua waits.

         “You can’t move on. You feel like you lost a part of yourself then, and those pieces aren’t replaceable.” Gon’s eyes shine with tears. “But maybe there are other pieces that can substitute. Differently. But maybe it’ll still turn out okay in the end.”

         “What are you saying?” Kurapika stops trying to dry his face. He lets his tears and snot dribble onto his shirt.

         “I don’t mind Chrollo. I want to learn about restoring Nen from him, so I guess you could say I’m selfish, too.” Gon looks at his hands. “But I think you can learn from him, too, Kurapika. And he has even more to learn from you.”

         “I don’t think you’re upset because you hate him; at least, not entirely. You’re upset because you hate yourself for liking him,” Killua muses.

         “What will you regret, Kurapika?” Leorio asks gently. “Never speaking to Chrollo again? Would Pairo want you to suffer?”

         Kurapika shivers. He doesn’t want to think about what his friends and family would want. Because they’d call him corrupted by the world long before they called him a traitor. And now damaged, tainted by making love not only to a man he’s not married to, but to their killer.

         “We’re always going to help you, Kurapika.” Gon pinches Kurapika’s hand.

         “Kurapika,” Killua says, grabbing his friend’s face. “Look at me. And forget everything expected of you. Forget everything and everyone else right now.”

         “And?” Kurapika looks lost.

         “Do you like Chrollo Lucilfer?” Killua swallows as Kurapika stammers.

         “Let me rephrase.” Killua hates confronting this part of himself. Because the enemy he can never defeat is his past, but he fights it all the same. “In another world, would you want to be his friend?”

         “In another world…yes, I suppose,” Kurapika says.

         “That’s what I used to tell myself during the hunter exam. In another world, I could be all of your friends. And then you made that other world reality despite my sins.” Killua smiles from his eyes. “Now we’re going to make you _your_ other world.”

         “We can’t raise the dead,” Leorio says slowly.

         “No, but we can do our part to gather the eyes.”

         Gon points at Kurapika. “Don’t protest anymore! We’re going to, like it or not.”

         Killua nods. “And that’s also why we’re going to make you talk to your friend Chrollo by tonight at the latest.”          

 

* * *

         “Don’t freak out,” Machi begins as Feitan closes the cabin door behind them.

         “Freak out?” Feitan is puzzled. She’s wearing the same bra as yesterday. It’s sexy, but he can control himself.

         “Danchou is also seeing someone.”

         “Yay,” Feitan says flatly.

         “The Chain Bastard.”

         Feitan does a double take. “That why he took the eyes!”

         “I know.” Machi slides off her bra. “Anyhow, the Bastard seems to have called off his vengeance, so some good will come of it.”

         “It must be for the Troupe,” Feitan says. There’s no other explanation. Because they can’t kill Hisoka, they’ll kill the Chain Bastard. He trusts Danchou.

         “Right.” Machi’s instincts tell her that it’s more than that, that Danchou actually feels something, and seemed despondent at the Kurta’s rejection. But she’ll let Feitan stay ignorant for now. “Don’t tell the others for now.”

         “The ship would ignite from the smoke coming out of Nobunaga’s ears,” Feitan says. But still. If Chrollo is hurt again, he will skin the brat himself. “What do you think?”

         “My instincts tell me he’s safe for now. That doesn’t mean I’m not worried.” Machi extends her hand to pull Feitan into bed.

         “And here I thought we were irresponsible.” Feitan rolls onto the bed and pulls her atop him. “I bet we have more fun.”

 

* * *

 

         It’s been quite the day. The Spider got laid, Hisoka did not, and they’re nearing the Dark Continent.

         Hisoka enters his room humming to himself. He has no doubt Illumi has prepared an assault of ‘just imagine Chrollo getting more than you,’ and to be honest, he might just surrender at this point. Maybe he can teach Illumi about sex as fun, not a transaction.

         Illumi ceases his pacing in the middle of their small cabin. “Hisoka. Something terrible has happened.”

         “Kurapika and Chrollo fucked? I think it’s great,” Hisoka says suggestively.

         Illumi resumes his pacing. Hisoka is frankly unsure if his husband is speaking to him, or to himself. “No, no, no. Now one of Killua’s friends has had sex. I didn’t think he’d need it this early, but what if Kil gets curious?”

         Hisoka suddenly realizes where this is going. “Wait.”

         “I can be the big brother again! I must talk to him!” Illumi claps his hands and, before Hisoka can react, dashes out of their room.

         “Jesus whom I’ve never spoken to before: have mercy.” Hisoka flies after Illumi. Maybe God will wait to strike him with lightning until he’s done saving Killua from whatever disaster Illumi has not planned.

 

* * *

 

Kurapika feels dizzy as he raises a sweating palm to knock on Chrollo’s door. He feels Gon, Killua, and Leorio’s gaze from around the corner, and while he knows they’re there because they love him, he just hopes for once someone hates him as much as he hates himself.

Chrollo opens the door. He holds out the case of eyes, as if he’s been expecting him. “You have a distinctive knock.”

He fixates on the floor.

But Kurapika doesn’t take the eyes.

 “I suppose you’ll want your tunic, too?” Chrollo taps his foot.

Kurapika croaks.

Chrollo looks up at him, as if for a moment he felt the hope he’s forbidden himself.

Kurapika draws in a raggedy breath.

“I hate you.” _Let’s begin with that_.


	14. Recompense

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Recompense**

 

“May I come in?” Kurapika adds.

Chrollo has half a mind to shut the door in his face, but he steps aside all the same. Let Kurapika come in. Not many invite themselves into the cabin of the one they claim to hate, after all. This might be interesting.

“I _hate_ you,” Kurapika says again, kicking the door closed. “And I want to.”

Chrollo watches, solemn. “Is that why you’re here? I know you hate me.”

“No, you don’t.” Kurapika squeezes his eyes shut. _Do it._ He hears Leorio and Killua and Gon encouraging him. In fact, they’re waiting outside, prepared to drag him back should he coward out of this conversation. “I hate you because I _don’t_ entirely hate you even though I want to.”

“I’m sure I’ll find sense in that somewhere,” Chrollo replies, though his heart flickers again.

“Please don’t try.” Kurapika flicks aside a strand of golden hair. “I said something terrible to you. To hurt you, because I was just angry at myself. For forgetting my rage. Rage is my purpose in life, just like yours was to find yourself.” He laughs desolately. “And all I did was hurt you.”

“You speak with regret.” Chrollo watches him closely.

“I do regret it. I was cruel with my words.”

“As I said before. They weren’t wrong.” Chrollo sits on his bed, hands folded on his lap.

Kurapika scrunches up his face. “Actually, I really don’t mind the nickname Kura.”

“Ah, your lie emerges at last.” Chrollo can’t help but roll his eyes.

“I’m trying to apologize!” Kurapika sits on the floor, across from Chrollo. “I … I … I want to ask your forgiveness for this morning.”

Chrollo is dumbfounded. Kurapika? Forgiveness? After everything Chrollo stole from him? He should be the one asking forgiveness, but he doesn’t want to, maybe because he doesn’t feel worthy of forgiveness.

“I … I was emotional. And frightened. And overwhelmed.” Kurapika doesn’t meet Chrollo’s eyes. “But that’s no excuse.”

“Why?” Chrollo asks. His voice is gentle. He already knows, and he wants Kurapika to say it. Because he killed them. Because loving him would be treason to his family.

“Because I didn’t even – I mean – there’s so much wrong,” Kurapika says with a broken laugh. “Even the little things.”

“Is anything ever right?” Chrollo asks.

Kurapika shrugs.

“Did you feel right when you were with me?” Chrollo swallows. “Is that what made you angry?”

It’s all the arrogance he hopes.

Kurapika nods.

“I felt it, too.” Chrollo knows Paku would understand, but Uvogin? Maybe. But Nobunaga and Phinks definitely won’t. “Your guilt will devour you if you serve it long enough.”

“You could listen to guilt a bit more.” There’s no hostility in Kurapika’s tone. Just fact.

“Probably. And you, less. I wonder, could we learn from each other?” Chrollo taps his forehead.

“That’s why we’re still talking, is it not?”

“Well, I also find you attractive and your personality fascinating.” Chrollo shrugs.

Kurapika grimaces. He can’t meet Chrollo’s eyes again as his cheeks flame. “I feel the same. Ugh.”

“So shy?” Chrollo can’t resist.

“Truthfully … another reason I was overwhelmed?” Kurapika shivers. “I … last night … you were my first kiss.”

Chrollo’s eyes widen, just slightly. “Was I?” He would not have guessed, although it befits Kurapika’s personality.

“I assume you’ve been kissed by many.”

“On occasion.” Chrollo shrugs. They haven’t meant nearly as much. “More than kissing, usually.”

Kurapika’s face is now as scarlet as his eyes.

“I will assume you were a virgin, then?” Chrollo asks matter-of-factly. He probably would not have moved so quickly if he’d known.

Kurapika gasps and clamps his hands over his flaming cheeks. “Yes, yes – I – I, uh – I was – I am a virgin – so what?!”

“Until last night.” Chrollo winks. He can’t help himself.

Chrollo tilts his head. A mischevious grin manifests on his mouth. Enough of this forgiveness talk – he wants to run far, far away from it. “May I be your second kiss, too?”

“It’s more than that by now,” Kurapika mutters, dragging Chrollo’s mouth down to his.

 

* * *

 

         “This is why I didn’t want him to have friends!” Illumi tugs his hair as he stands in the hall. Kil – Killua – is not in his cabin. No doubt they’re off experimenting!

         “ _That_ is why?” Hisoka bends over, panting. He had no idea Illumi could run this fast. In a race, he might actually lose to his husband. “Oh, and it had _nothing_ to do with your crazy jealousy?”

         “What? I am Killua’s big brother. How can I be jealous?” Illumi looks as genuinely confused as Hisoka feels.

         Three figures turn the corner towards their cabin. They promptly freeze.

         “Killua!” Illumi runs straight at his brother. “We have to talk!”

         “Is something wrong?” Killua has rarely seen Illumi this frazzled. And by rarely, he means never.

         “Very.” Illumi drags Killua by his wrist into their room. Gon and Leorio follow, hearts pounding. Although Gon does have to wonder at Hisoka frantically – and very obviously – pressing ‘record’ on his phone.

         “Kil _lua_.” Illumi emphasizes his full name, just so his brother knows he respects his wishes to be called by his name. “You are, um, shall we say, at the age where things start to happen.”

         Killua looks as if he has just been struck by his own lightning. “Oh my – Gon, help.”

         “What?” Gon demands.

         “Things? You started with _things_?” Hisoka splutters.

         Leorio bites his tongue.

         Illumi holds up his finger. “I’m going to tell you about sex now. Which you are totally allowed to do –”

         “Hold on!” Killua breaks in. Holy _shitttttttt_. “Okay, first, you’re only saying I can so I won’t. Second, I’m twelve. Third! I’d rather stand outside Chrollo’s door than listen to you.”

         Illumi pays no heed. He is going to be the good brother. For once. But, uh, how does he explain this? “No, but when people get weird feelings in their pelvises they try to rub each others and stick things in –”

         Killua plants his hands over his ears and screams.

         Leorio looks amazed at this display, and Gon looks terribly lost.

         “Hmm, this is harder than I thought,” Illumi muses.

         “I _can’t_.” Hisoka ends his recording. “God, you’re even self-destructive whn you’re trying to be constructive, Illumi.”

         “How do I say this?” Illumi ignores Hisoka’s barb. Because it’s true and he does not have time for truth.

         “I’m a doctor-in-training; let me handle this,” Leorio begs.

         “How boring, scientist.” Hisoka flutters his eyelashes. “No, this is my job. Illumi, listen.”

         “Killua, listen,” Illumi repeats.

         Killua rolls his eyes. “Gon, listen.”

         “To what?” Gon stomps his foot. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about!”

         “Oh,” Hisoka says with a grin, praactially shivering in anticipation, “you’re about to.”

         An hour later, the entire room is silent and filled with traumatized air. Hisoka removes the sculptures he’s created with his aura. “Any questions?”

         Illumi raises his hand. “Killua, think of it like shoving a knife – ”

         Hisoka clamps his hand over Illumi’s lips. “That’ll do, husband.”

         “Wait, so that’s what Chrollo and Kurapika did?” Gon is astounded. “Why?” It sounds gross.”

         “It is,” Illumi agrees.

         “It’s beautiful and fun,” Hisoka replies.

         “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I, Hisoka?” Illumi smiles coquettishly at his husband.

         “Lame attempt, Illumi.”

         “Okay, this is too much!” Killua shrieks.

         “Leorio, is any of this true?” Gon stares at his doctor friend. His eyes beg for relief. “Is this what Kurapika is doing right now?”

         Leorio pales. “You know…on second thought, send all your questions to Hisoka.”

         “We can ask Kurapika later,” Killua spurts. “And not the dysfunctional duo.”

 

* * *

 

In the silence filled with each of their ragged breaths, Chrollo runs his hands down Kurapika’s sides. He loves being naked with this man.

“I want to ask something,” Kurapika says, sitting up.

Chrollo’s heart pounds instinctually. “Yes?”

“We’re always talking about just one instance in the past.” Kurapika leans forward. “But I want to know more. What were you like as a child?”

Chrollo laughs with relief. He sits besides Kurapika, pressing his thighs against his lover. And the man he’s with whom he’s smitten, if not in love. “Bookish.”

“Was there ever a doubt,” Kurapika says dryly.

Chrollo laughs, and it’s merry this time. “I would run around causing mischief – stealing food for people, especially my mother.”

“Your mother?” Kurapika asks softly.

“Mmm. She was a good woman. Harsh, mean, loving. She taught me to read because she hoped I could escape our rude little lives.” Chrollo looks aside. “She died when I was eight. Murdered. And probably worse.”

He swallows. “After that some of the older gangs took me in. Pakunoda was one of them. We had a lot of fun, and eventually kidnapped some tourists until they taught us nen.”

“Chrollo – I’m sorry,” Kurapika says, placing his hand on Chrollo’s shoulder. At the same time he was being born, Chrollo had lost his mother.

Chrollo flops back onto the bed. “Ah, how can I forget Phantom? He was the guardian Pakunoda and I made up from the stories we read. A spider with thirteen legs. We managed to convince Machi he was real for a while.”

Kurapika can’t help but chuckle.

“I never wanted to lead the Troupe, you know? They all elected me because becoming like Phantom was my idea.” Chrollo closes his eyes. “I love them all. Even the new ones.”

His eyes pop open. “Nobunaga used to be scared of spiders, you know? He wanted to change our name for the longest time. For his test of courage to join, we made him lower himself into a spider nest.”

Kurapika shakes his head at the image. “You must have been rambunctious children.”

“We were our own lords and ladies. Bound by no rules except the ones we wanted. I loved it. I still do,” Chrollo says, watching Kurapika carefully. “But…”

“I know.” Kurapika squeezes his hand. “Truthfully, I was quite a rambunctious child myself.”

“You don’t say,” Chrollo says sarcastically.

“My friend Pairo and I once found a book about the outside world and read it every night. Until the damn elder stole it. I think he enjoyed it too, though.” Kurapika grins.

“So we were both bookworms greedy for knowledge, hmm?” Chrollo kisses Kurapika’s cheek. “I always did say the best thieves stole knowledge.”

“You’re quoting a book. I read it as a child,” Kurapika counters. “I remember that line!”

“Guilty.” Chrollo smirks.

He stills. Kurapika’s eyes are turning crimson. “What – what’s pissing you off now?”

Kurapika looks confused. “Nothing.”

“Are you afraid?” Chrollo’s heart picks up. Because he is. In the most wonderful way, and because Kura’s eyes are red.

“No.”

“Your eyes are scarlet.” Chrollo bites his lip. “Have I said something?” _Please, please don’t lie to me._ He wants to beg, but Chrollo is not accustomed to begging. Not since before age eight.

Has he moved too fast again? What did he do to hurt him this time? Or is the past still infecting the present, and will it ever cease?

“Oh.” Kurapika realizes the problem, and he has to chuckle.

He leans forward to grip Chrollo’s knees, looking directly into his eyes, as his face transforms to the same hue as his eyes. “Because…I’m happy. They turn red with all strong emotion. Not a particular kind.”

Chrollo catches his breath. It may be Kurapika’s beautiful eyes. It may be that Kura is happy with him. And it may be that Chrollo is happy with Kurapika.

He reaches out a hand to brush Kurapika’s eyelids, to examine the most wondrous Scarlet Eyes he has ever seen. And Kura just sits there, letting Chrollo drink in the sight, minute after minute, until he sees a tear run down Chrollo’s cheek.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

“Idiot,” Kurapika snaps, bending forward to kiss the tears off his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Kurapika has never needed an alarm clock. Years of discipline awaken him at 6:30 am every day, regardless of previous events. The sole exception is his fever after battling the Troupe in Yorknew, a moment he hopes to never relive.

Kurapika slips out of Chrollo’s bed. “I’m on guard duty this morning.”

“Wouldn’t want to be late,” Chrollo says sleepily. His hand doesn’t let go of Kurapika’s.

“Chrollo.” Kurapika makes a face.

“Stay safe.” Chrollo untangles his fingers from Kura, who, after dressing, finally picks up his friend’s eyes on his way out.

Kurapika closes the door and immediately crashes to the ground. He barely manages to salvage the eyes.

“I knew it,” he hears a female growl.

He looks up to see nen stitches barricading the room and Machi glaring down at him.

“Listen here, fool.” The feisty woman lifts Kurapika off the ground. He’s surprised to see the tiny one – Feitan – behind her, holding out a sword.

“What?” Kurapika’s face grows hot and red.

“I’m all for you comforting Danchou or whatever it is you’re engaging in, but if you’re playing a game – if you are trying to hurt him underneath all your talks of truces and underneath your seduction – I will kill you, Kurta. Got it?” Machi’s nostrils flare. “Don’t underestimate me.”

Ugh, so the candy girl is human too. A caring human. Kurapika doesn’t understand morality anymore. And maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe he just wants to forget morality exists and float along forever, just like Chrollo.

The door creaks open. Chrollo peeks his head out, unable to resist a joke. “Just checking: the scratches don’t count as hurt, right?”

 “That’s it; I’m done.” Machi grinds her teeth at Chrollo. “Be _careful_.”

 He’s surprised by the emotions raging in her eyes.

Kurapika hangs his head. He did already hurt Chrollo, just yesterday. “Please don’t –”

 Feitan pokes his sword into Kurapika’s throat. Not enough to draw blood. Just enough to threaten. “What is your goal?”

 “To recover my clans’ eyes.” Kurapika parrots the same response that’s driven him for years, but now – now there’s a hint of emptiness within.

Maybe he doesn’t have a goal anymore. But then what will he do?

 No, he’s just sleep-deprived and intoxicated by his lover. Revenge was never his true goal. The eyes are. And Chrollo is useful for that.

And he does care about him, still.

“Acceptable.” Feitan drops his sword.

“You should go,” Chrollo reminds Kurapika. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” Kurapika’s eyes soften, just the slightest bit, when he looks at Danchou, and Machi subtly approves despite herself.

 “By the way. I want my hundred Jenny.” Mahci holds out her hand to Feitan as soon as Kurapika is out of earshot.

“You bet on us,” Chrollo observes dryly.

“He didn’t believe me. How else could I convince him to come here?”

 “I’d expect nothing less of us spiders.” Chrollo has to laugh.

 

 


	15. Approaching Darkness

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Approaching Darkness**

 

Kurapika hums to himself as he changes into fresh clothes. Another eventless guarding session. One less worry.

A knock on the door breaks through the Kurta chant he’s now singing under his breath.

“Gon?” Kurapika is surprised to see two of his friends there. Gon holds an ice pack and looks almost afraid, and everyone knows Gon is afraid of nothing.

Killua, chagrined, stands behind Gon.

“Can we come in?” Gon asks.

“Of course.” Kurapika steps back. “Is everything okay?”

“Are you okay?” Gon presses. He holds out the ice pack with quivering hands.

“I’m fine now. No more meltdowns,” Kurapika says with a quick smile that’s not exactly reassuring.

“That’s not it,” Killua mumbles.

“Pardon?”

“Does it hurt?” Gon bursts forth. “Are you in pain?”

A pall settles over Kurapika. His jaw slackens. “Who …”  
            “Hisoka; who else? Although, to be fair to everyone’s favorite clown, he spared us from Illumi’s version,” Killua explains.

“Ah.” Kurapika tries to laugh at the absurdity, but he’s too embarrassed to do much besides tremble with sweat dotting his brow.

Gon presses the ice pack against Kurapika’s forehead.

“I’m really okay, I promise.” Kurapika looks away. He still feels dirty. Still feels like a grimy traitor. A traitor unworthy of atonement.

“Do you like it?” Killua finally dares to ask.

Kurapika squeals. “Why are you asking?”

“Because we didn’t know people did these weird things, and I don’t get it,” Gon protests.

“I knew, but still don’t understand,” Killua grumbles. “And you’re more approachable than the other options.”

“I see.” Kurapika sits on his bed. He wonders, if he texts Chrollo, will he rescue him now? Or will Chrollo laugh at his current misfortune?

But when he blinks, Killua and Gon have already sat at the edge of his bed.

“Okay, so what exactly…did you do?” Killua looks fascinated.

“You’re twelve,” Kurapika says seriously.

“We need to hear something normal,” Killua says.

“If it’s not painful, what does it feel like?” Gon clasps his hands. “I want to know.”

This, Kurapika decides, must be his punishment for his affair.

* * *

 

“Well, no, you ask if it’s okay,” says Kurapika’s doll.

“Okay, stopping this.” Kalluto folds his Kurapika, Gon, and Killua paper dolls. “Hmm, Alluka, who else do you want to see?”  
            “Brother Milluki!” Alluka smiles. She grips her the shiny necklace Kalluto gave her.

“Okay.” Kalluto fishes around for Milluki’s paper doll.

“I don’t know. Illumi doesn’t tell me much of anything,” says Milluki’s voice.

Mother speaks. “We have to find out if these rumors are true!”

“Can you believe anything from an airship bar?” Milluki forces a laugh.

“Hmm.” Father’s distrust is evident, and Alluka shivers at the sound of his voice.

“Enough of that.” Kalluto folds up the dolls. “I have a better idea.”

He hands Alluka two paper dolls: one colored to resemble Alluka, the other Nanika. “So you can talk through a doll instead of switching who’s out all the time.”

Alluka gasps. “You’re the best little brother.”

“Am I?” Kalluto looks hopeful. He’s her only little brother, after all, but maybe he’s still special to her.

“Yes!” She hugs him, and Kalluto decides he’s going to be the best little brother and do what he ought to have done when he first saw her.

“Do you want to go steal ice cream with me?”

* * *

 

“We’re nearing the continent.”

Tserriednich glances across the way to the unusual man in the cell facing from him. He looks like the dead Hunter Chairman, but younger and maybe more stupid. “Oh? Do you suppose you’ll escape and rule a new empire?”

“I’m not here for Empire. I’m here for my own heart.” The man closes his eyes and sniffs the air. “It smells like land and mystery; can you not tell? I’d guess we’re in the shallows before the land.”

“I smell darkness.” Tserriednich doesn’t, but he doesn’t mind frightening this man.

“You’re a liar if there ever was one.” The man grins. He extends his hand between the cell bars. “Beyond Netero.”

“Your father named you Beyond?” And Tserriednich thought _Tserriednich_ was a poor name. “What a selfish bastard.”

“I never spent enough time with him to know,” Beyond says agreeably.

“Fathers were made to disappoint.” Tserriednich crosses his arms. “And be killed by their sons.”

Beyond smiles dryly. “How bleak.”

Tserriednich, if he’s being honest, does not care much for ruling a continent. Or even the Kakin Empire. He cares about killing, about that one moment between life and death where a person’s secret self is released. He cares about the satisfaction of watching a man wither away and die, of a deep philosophical conversation on humanity’s mind before animalistically fucking a girl, of the intimacy created by brutality.

He doesn’t want to win this contest for renown. He wants to win to know who people are. Because he’s always been lonely.

He ought to have started with the powerful, though. Next time, he won’t make such a mistake.

A voice rings out.

“Hello, brother dear.”

Tserriednich turns to see a slender young woman with two scars across her face and a crown of thorns.

“And you are…”

“Morena Prudo.” The young woman smiles at Beyond. “A friend of Netero’s.”

“And my bastard sister.” Tserriednich grins. “Your mother must have been terribly ugly if my Father didn’t marry her.”

“You’d be so easy to kill, all locked up and helpless in that cage,” she purrs in return.

“What a lovely clapback. All look, no bite. I prefer women who bite.” Tserriednich winks.

Morena’s lips curl in digust. “Well, you’re in luck, _brother_.”

“Am I?”

“First things first. I hate you. But I’ll free you on one condition.” She holds up a finger. “You start your path by killing our father.”

“And what’s in it for you?”

Morena hardens her eyes. “Vengeance.”

She saunters closer, until Tserriednich feels her aura. “They’re imprisoned you without aura here, correct?”

“Until I escape with your help, no doubt.” Tserriednich leans his head against the bars.

“You’ll escape with your own help, of a kind.” Morena leans forward and bites her brother’s lips.

Tserriednich is not complaining, though Beyond looks mildly pained.

“Whooo!” Tserriednich steps back. He feels an aura rumbling within him. “Now, that’s an interesting ability.”

“It strengthens the more you kill, brother dear.” Morena wipes her lips and sashays away. “Have fun escaping.”

 

* * *

 

Nasubi Hui Guo Rou, king of Kakin, funder of this expedition, is most annoyed, even after a night of wine. He had higher hopes for Tserriednich than his imprisonment.

Of course, the rumors of the Phantom Troupe add another delectable portion. He’s heard there are beautiful women among them.

There are also beautiful prostitutes waiting in his quarters. He smiles to himself as he enters his room and shooes them to the sitting room.

One can imagine Nasubi’s surprise when he drops his robe to Tserriednich waiting there.

“Well, if it isn’t my prodigal son.”

“Thank you, Father. I consider that a compliment, mmm.” Tserriednich crosses the room wih a languid pace.

“I had high hopes for you. They may have been restored just now.” Nasubi settles his girth onto his brocade sofa. “You’ll have to divide your time between finding your treasure and the succession contest, however.”

“Treasure?” Tserriednich feels as though cold steel has pierced his heart.

“Indeed. The Phantom Troupe appears to have made off with much of it, or so Benjamin tells me.”

Tserriednich holds his breath. Not his treasure. Those jewels, those coins, those books and body parts – they’re more than things to him. They’re memories of past people who held these items, even if briefly, with no idea where their treasure would pass next. They’re collections of the human spirit. Their financial worth is paltry compared to their human meaning.

“He’s hunting them now.” Nasubi snorts.

“He’ll get none of the glory,” Tserriednich says. “And neither shall you.”

He steps closer, conjuring a candle in his hand. It burns before his father’s amused eyes.

“How splendid, Tserriednich.”

“My favorite part about candles isn’t the flame, did you know? Not even the pain of extinguishing it with your fingers. No, I like how candles melt. Reduced to puddles just to expand their power.” Tserriednich smiles at his father, who frowns.

He reaches up to wipe the sweat off his creased brow, but instead of brine, he sees his own flesh smeared across his hand.

“Guards!”

“They work for me now,” says a female voice, entering the room. Two scars cover her eye.

“Who – who are you?” grunts Nasubi. He falls to the ground, staining the beautiful embroidery with melted fat and skin.

“Now, that’s going to be quite a mess.” Morena shrugs. “Thank you, brother. Now, your reward awaits.” She opens the door to the sitting room.

“Always.” Tserriednich grins at his father’s harem of girls huddled there. “Am I not more handsome than him?”

They nod. As his father melts behind him, refusing to scream, refusing to give his son the satisfaction, Tserriednich feels alive.

Because now he knows – his father only lived for lust.

So Tserriednich closes the door behind him. Nasubi can die alone, without seeing another breast.

Morena stalks out of the room. The prince has leveled up. And now, though she’s sorry to interrupt her brother’s lechery – and she’s not – it’s time to make sure the ship doesn’t have time to notice he’s missing.

* * *

 

“Woble, dear, why are you crying?” Oito pats the child. It’s well past midnight, and Woble is uncharqctristically fussy.

“Shh. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise, Woble.” Oito has no intention of leaving the Black Whale when they arrive. She will never endanger her child.

Perhaps she’s a coward, or perhaps a prudent mother, but Oito’s lust for adventure is second to her care for her daughter.

There’s a small moment in which nothing happens, but Oito feels a sharp glint of horror.

A glass is sent soaring off the small dresser in their room. It shatters on the floor.

“Spirit?” Oito spins around. “Are you trying to get my attention?”

There’s silence.

Her voice breaks. _Why do I feel so nervous all of a sudden_? “Why can’t I see you? We both want to protect Woble, right?”

The room begins to shake.

 

* * *

 

Alluka’s whimpering awakens Kalluto.

“Huh? Sis?” He flicks on the light, blinking away the flicker of pain sprung upon his eyes. His belly hurts from too much ice cream, and arguing with Alluka that chocolate sprinkles are superior to rainbow sprinkles – because they are.

Alluka shudders, but it’s not her face that turns to Kalluto. It’s Nanika’s.

“Uh, hi.” He waves. “It’s me, your best little brother.”

Nanika begins to sob. No tears come forth, butt her distress seems genuine.

Nanika can’t even cry. She’d be a good Zoldyck, a better one than even Killua. In his sleep-deprived state, Kalluto’s frustration at Nanika bubbles over.

“Why do you have to be so perfect?”

“I’m not,” says Nanika, wiping away her tears. “I’m not good at all, Kalluto.”

Kalluto frowns. He’s jostled out of bed, falling before Nanika. Is it just him, or is the boat vibrating?”

“I’m very, very, very bad.” Nanika cringes.

The lights extinguish.

 

* * *

 

“Feel good?” Feitan lies between Machi’s thighs. She’s pulling on his hair and squirming under his touch. Neither of them are particularly sure why they awoke at the same time, but they’re never ones to lose an opportunity.

“Wait.” Machi bites her lip.

“You okay?” Feitan sounds as concerned as Machi’s ever heard him.

She sits up, a scowl growing on her face. “Oh, no, you’re wonderful, Feitan. It’s just…something feels wrong. With the ship. It’s just instinct, I think, but –”

Feitan’s voice drops as he sniffs the air. “It’s not just instinct.”

She inhales. _Smoke_.

Both of them launch out of bed and stumble in their tangled blankets. Machi swears.

“Floor uneven,” Feitan says tersely.

Machi clamors for her clothes. “We have to get Kalluto!”

 

* * *

 

Hisoka lies awake as Illumi slumbers beside him, curled in a fetal position. His husband looks most uncomfortable, but truthfully, Hisoka is uncomfortable too.

Soon they’ll be in the Dark Continent, where he won’t have a luxurious bed to treat Illumi.

There’s only one option. Hisoka taps “play” on his phone.

“Think of it like a knife –”

Illumi jolts awake to Killua’s scream. His eyes pop open. “What in hell?!”

“Do you like your alarm?” Hisoka grins wickedly.

“You wouldn’t delete it if I asked, would you,” Illumi says matter-of-factly.

“No. This is gold.” Hisoka snorts. “But you know what I would do?”

“What?” Illumi rubs sleep out of his eyes.

He looks so young and vulnerable, with the blanket pulled up to his chin, tightly tucked under him. Hisoka uses his fingers to mold Illumi’s lips upwards.

“What are you –”

“Shh, husband.” Hisoka moves his face close enough to tickle Illumi’s cheeks. “You’re blushing.”

“It’s a physical response.”

“To emotion, Illumi.” Hisoka giggles. “Because you have _feelings_ for me.”

“I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t,” Illumi says. It just makes sense. Even if he doesn’t allow himself to feel his feelings, he still possesses them.

“I see.” Hisoka tilts Illumi’s chin up to kiss him.

Illumi feels a flash of fear – a flash of memory, of his client holding him down – but no, he really does want Hisoka. He reaches for his husband, trembling with excitement, when –

The floor erupts beneath them.

 

_The ice pack scene came from conversations with Serenechaos and Hamliet._


	16. Landfall, with Emphasis on Fall

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Landfall, with Emphasis on Fall**

 

“What is this?” Kurapika coughs through pea green smoke. It smells faintly sweet, in direct contrast to the panic aboard, and that only serves to further Kurapika’s alarm.

For a moment, he fears this is Chrollo’s doing. His plan to steal more. Or even to remove his eyes.

“Nen,” Chrollo says grimly, pulling his coat around him. He seems more irritated than anything else. “Whose, or what, I don’t know.”

“I have to find the queen.” And save Pairo’s eyes. Kurapika is not losing his friend’s eyes to the sea. Although now he realizes that something similar could have happened to the remaining pairs, and he’ll forever search in vain.

“I’ll have to find the spiders.” Chrollo tightens his grip on Kurapika’s biceps and traces his lips the nape of Kurapika’s neck. “Don’t get yourself killed, impulsive one.”

“Same.” Kurapika rolls his eyes, because he can’t tolerate the idea, before rushing out of Chrollo’s cabin. He’s not saying goodbye, because Chrollo isn’t going to die, and besides, Kurapika’s still warming up to the idea that he actually likes Chrollo.

He trips over his feet as he dashes for Oito’s chambers. The ship is listing to one side.

He should have been in his cabin besides hers, not laughing as Chrollo covered him with kisses. Kurapika curses himself for neglecting his duty once more.

How is Chrollo unfazed? Kurapika not only finds his actions towards Chrollo incomprehensible, but Chrollo himself is an enigma.

“Kurapika!” Melody spots him in the hallway first – or, more likely, hears his heartbeat.

He stills. He’s been avoiding Melody these last few days. Because she’ll know.

But Melody just offers him a light smile for his twittering heart before becoming deadly serious. “Gon texted Hisoka.”

Killua barges out of the door. “Alluka was with Kalluto tonight!”

“Then let Kalluto handle it!” Leorio wrestles Killua in vain. “You can’t run off and cause more chaos!”

“Killua, don’t. Please.” Gon lunges onto his friend. His face is stricken.

Killua doubles over. “But they’re just kids.”

“So are you,” Melody replies, and Killua can’t protest, but even so, he’s never been a kid, he never fucking has.

Leorio’s phone buzzes. “Hello?”

“Kurapika, thank goodness.” Oito throws open her door. She gasps with relief. “Do you know what’s happening?”

Kurapika shakes his head. “I think it’s best to climb to the deck, though.”

Oito nods. “I can’t…I can’t help but fear it’s another plot on Woble’s life. Or the other children.”

Kurapika has no reassurances. Other than Hisoka being a terrible captain – which is entirely possible – that seems the most likely explanation.

Leorio hangs up. “Kurapika, we have a problem.”

“We have many problems,” Killua says tersely.

“No: Kurapika specifically. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re technically members of the Zodiacs.” Leorio rubs his forehead. “That was Cheadle. They need us to rescue Beyond.”

“I’m on guard duty,” Kurapika snaps, glancing towards Oito with anxiety written over his face. _Yes, so I am a member of the Zodiacs Intelligence_. He hopes she doesn’t think he was spying on her.

“We can guard the queen,” says Gon, motioning towards Oito.   
            “If she’ll have us.” Killua nods.

“Go, Kurapika,” Oito says softly. “Besides, you’re silly if you think I didn’t already know that about you.”

 

“What the fuck is happening?!” Hisoka swings from his bungee gum, holding Illumi by his hand. He wonders if this is what panic feels like.

He and Illumi have crashed three floors down into a narrow cavern that seems to be rapidly filling with water. He’s holding on to a splintered floorboard to keep from falling further...much, much further.

“Someone blew a second spout hole in the Black Whale,” Illumi replies, calm as ever for someone dangling in the air.

“In the bottom!”

“Yes. It seems to go all the way through to the top.” Illumi squints.

“I have to get to the wheelhouse.” Hisoka flings Illumi back onto solid ground and rushes away.

To his pleasant surprise, Illumi follows him, though he is demanding on his phone. “Killua? Where are you?”

The first mate looks stunned as Hisoka, with his messy red hair and smeared face paint, bursts into the wheelhouse. “Who are you?”

Hisoka transforms into Captain Baha. “Does this answer your question?”

“And births many more,” says the man.

“There seems to be a hole in the center of the ship. At least one.” Illumi crosses his arms. “How close are we to land?”

“Who is this?” demands the first mate.

“My husband. Don’t be rude.” Hisoka winks before cussing. “And, no, we could wreck ourselves upon the shoals if we’re not careful. There’s not enough time.”

“We need to plug the hole, then,” Illumi says simply. “Now. If only we had someone with a waterproof aura that was also sticky enough to hold the ship together.”

“I’m needed to steer the ship,” Hisoka says in a saccharine tone, not missing the point.

“How hard can it be?”

Illumi reaches for the wheel, but Hisoka stops him.

“Look.” The First Mate crosses his arms. “The Black Whale is the first of its kind. Unless you have extensive experience sailing, don’t bother. And I, for one, am not going to send our captain on a suicide mission.”

“You and what army?” Illumi says pleasantly, as he pulls out his pins.

“Illumi, he can call the Kakin army here.” Hisoka swallows.

Illumi has already prepared a plan. “Well then. There’s only one option left.”

Hisoka feels cold. “And that is?”

 

* * *

 

“Steal Hisoka’s bungee gum? Is this heaven?” Chrollo can’t resist asking his phone. He makes his way through the crowded corridors of panicked and angry families, scanning for a bespectacled woman or a pair of large, rambunctious men.

“You’ll return it, of course,” Illumi says crisply.

“Certainly.” Chrollo certainly hopes Illumi isn’t going to specify when.

He’s only heard from Bonolenov, Franklin, Feitan, and Machi. Phinks is notoriously terrible about answering his phone, and right now, Chrollo chooses to believe that is the reason for his silence.

Machi and Feitan are after Kalluto. Franklin is after Phinks and Nobunaga, and Bonolenov for Shizuku.

Chrollo can’t lose another member, he vows as he makes his way to the wheelhouse.

Hisoka waits there, without his Baha disguise. He looks physically ill.

Chrollo scans Hisoka up and down. He hides the smile he feels despite their dire circumstances.

“Well?” Hisoka bursts out.

“Show your Bungee Gum to me.” Chrollo conjures up Bandit’s Secret.

Hisoka uses his Bungee Gum to snatch the book and slam his palm on its pages.

“Do you think it’s strong enough to hold the ship together?” Chrollo asks.

“It was strong enough to fight you with,” Hisoka shoots back.

“And lose. Poorly.” Chrollo’s smirk breaks through as he holds out his hand. But inside, his heart twists, because he’s still grieving Kortopi and Shalnark, and he may always be.

Hisoka hesitates, as if he’s noticed something emotional in the man’s eyes.

Illumi snaps his fingers. “We don’t have time.” He takes the book from his husband and tosses it towards Chrollo.

Chrollo catches Bandit’s Secret in one hand and manifests Bungee Gum in his other. “Oh my, this _is_ fun.”

“Fuck you,” Hisoka says, wilted. He gestures for Illumi to bring him the map.

“That’s Illumi’s job,” Chrollo says before turning around and fleeing. Cold. Greedy. A strong leader.

He thunders down the central staircase. He hopes Kurapika has reached the deck by now.

 

* * *

 

“Kalluto!” Machi coughs through the toxic brume, running against the crowd fleeing in the opposite direction. It’s thicker and more potent near her child’s cabin.

“Stop!” Feitan hauls her back. Machi gapes, staggered by the hole plunging down to the ocean beneath the ship. And filling with swirling water and nen smoke.

“Hold on.” Machi shoots her nen stitches across the hole. “I said hold on to me, Feitan.”

He grabs her waist as she swings them across. Kalluto’s cabin isn’t far.

“Machi!” A swirl of paper hits them.

Kalluto’s normally sleek bob sticks out every which way. Alluka clutches her brother’s hand.

“Oh, thank god.” Machi hugs them both, and Alluka, who only ever remembers being hugged by Killua, nearly falls over with delight.

“Can you pat my head?” She can’t help it. Every time someone gives her affection, she craves more. Even if the circumstances are inappropriate. So does Nanika, usually, but Nanika is hiding from the Dark Continent.

“Sure, kid.” Feitan rubs the top of her scalp, and Alluka wonders if she’s already drowned and flown to heaven.

“Boss says to get to the deck as quickly as possible.” Machi scans her phone.

“Did he talk to Hisoka?” Feitan asks bitterly.

“I already asked. Not yet. Illumi, answer your fu – I mean, your blasted phone!”

“You’re always one step ahead of me,” Feitan grumbles. “So you should know what to do next.”

“Obviously.” Machi wraps her stitches around the two children. “I’ll swing you across this foul hole first.”

For a second, she feels dizzy enough to vomit.

“Are you okay?” Feitan asks.

“We need to escape this smoke. I’m fine.” Machi tosses her head, pretending her eyesight isn’t swimming.

* * *

 

“Do we have to rescue Tserriednich, too?” Leorio whispers as he rushes down the stairs with Kurapika.

“We’ll see how dire it is.” Kurapika is not ready to free the prince. The prince who will surely pluck his eyes, hunt Woble, and place another bounty on Chrollo.

“Melody said your heartbeat is happier.”

Kurapika shakes his head. His stomach flips again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“For God’s sake. I’m happy for you. You may not believe it, Mr. Masochist, but your friends want you to be happy,” Leorio retorts.

“Can we have this conversation later?” Now both Chrollo and Leorio have called him a masochist, and Kurapika doesn’t want to consider this.

“Provided we survive, sure.”

The bottom tier is waist-deep with water. Green smog swirls above the eerily quiescent flood.

“Shit,” Leorio whispers.

“Let’s hurry.” Kurapika tucks the container of Pairo’s eyes into his pocket. He slips into the water, noting with relief that the sea is warm. He swims through the hall of flickering lights, towards the almost-covered sign for the brig.

“It’s too close to the fissure,” Leorio says nervously. “It’s probably underwater by now.”

“We have to try.” Kurapika turns the corner.

“Oh, my captors have returned!” booms Beyond’s jovial tone. The water, despite spouting up from the center of the brig, only reaches his waist.

“Where’s Tserriednich?” Leorio demands.

“Why are _you_ here?” Kurapika cries instead.

Because the water spurting forth should have filled this room by now. Instead, Shizuku Murasaki stands there, using her vacuum to suck in most of the water.

“Trying not to die, unless your quest wishes to add 200,000 people?” Shizuku glares at him.

“Quest?” Beyond raises his eyebrow. “You two know each other!”

“Don’t ask,” Kurapika gripes. “We’re here to free you.”

“Tell me, what does an esteemed member of the Zodiacs have to do with ruffians like the Phantom Troupe?” Beyond positively quivers with excitement as Leorio fumbles for the key.

“Everything, to him,” Shizuku remarks, turning back to her vacuum. She’s long suspected that where his little friends were, there the chain user would be. But if he has the Zodiacs on his side, this rat could be a problem.

Kurapika bites his lip. Because, yes, the Phantom Troupe is everything to him. Because they set him on this path. They stole his hope – or, his home, at least. And now Chrollo is stealing his feelings, too, but it’s not really stealing because Kurapika is giving them freely, and he oscillates between crushing self-loathing and exuberant abandon.

“Shizuku, I have nothing against you.” Kurapika says finally. His voice grows raspy from the smoke. “You weren’t there.”

“No? Did I not I massacre your friends in Yorknew?” Shizuku looks up in surprise.

Kurapika looks away. They were people, too. Shouldn’t their deaths haunt him as much as his tribe?

“Phew, freedom!” Beyond steps out. “How fucked are we?”

“Very, from the looks of this.” Leorio hesitates. “Lady, how long do you think that vacuum can stay ahead?”

“We’re losing ground, but only slowly,” Shizuku responds.

“Why are you helping?” Kurapika asks. Unlike before, he wants the answer to be noble. To be good.

“I don’t want to die.” Shizuku shrugs. “I want to keep my treasure.”

“And others?” Kurapika steps forward, resisting the urge to drown himself in these waters.

“It’d be nice if they survived, too.” Shizuku smiles knowingly. “You didn’t think I’d be entirely honest with you, Chain User?”

Kurapika’s shoulders slump. “No, I suppose not.”

“Kura! Shizuku?” Chrollo wades through the water. His eyes begin to tear from the smoke.

“What are you doing here?” Kurapika demands.

“You two _know_ you’re each aboard,” Shizuku observes.

“Something like that,” Chrollo says pleasantly, with a wink towards Kurapika, who is now blushing.

“He’s blushing like a maiden!” Beyond breaks into deep-throated laughter.

Shizuku is flabbergasted. “What on earth…”

“I’m here to relieve your duty, Shizuku.” Chrollo pats her shoulder. “And patch this hole.”

“With your ego?” Kurapika can’t resist. He’s not blushing. Not even a little. No way.

“I was thinking your righteousness, but it’s a bit porous, now isn’t it?” Chrollo smiles back at Kurapika.

He summons his book. “I’ve momentarily acquired a most useful ability.”

“What the fuck?” Leorio shrieks at Chrollo’s Bungee Gum. He breaks into another, more violent coughing fit.

“Are you serious?” Kurapika is horrified.

“I didn’t betray our agreement, Kura. Hisoka gave it willingly.” Chrollo brushes his hair back.  

“I’m going to treasure this for as long as Illumi lets me keep it.” Chrollo sends his new hatsu into the hole. “Well, that should hold for a bit.”

“Thank goodness. Blinky, we just need the remaining water drunk,” Shizuku commands her vacuum.

“Guess we’ll escort Beyond to the top deck,” says Leorio.

“Oh, surely you can handle him.” Chrollo shoots another strand of bungee gum around Kurapika’s waist and pulls him closer. “I want company.”

“You asshole!” Kurapika wraps his chain around Chrollo.

Chrollo’s eyelashes brush Kurapika’s forehead. “Guess we’re stuck.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Leorio says at the same time Shizuku voices, “They’re almost…sweet.”

“I need to escort Beyond and rejoin the queen,” Kurapika whispers.

“I know.” Chrollo releases him first. Kurapika’s chains fall away, and he watches his bedmate – perhaps lover – chase after his duties once more.

Did Kurapika really think he’d already betrayed their agreement? And hurt Hisoka during a crisis, risking his Spiders’ lives?

He swears to himself, because he wishes Bungee Gum could fix the hole he feels in his heart.

 

* * *

 

“What’s the news?” Machi and Feitan, with Alluka and Kalluto, crowd into the wheelhouse.

“Look who returned!” Hisoka cheers. Illumi moves just slightly in front of Hisoka. He won’t let anyone hurt him when he’s nenless.

“Hisoka!” Feitan spits his name like a curse. His face is purple, and all of them cough like they have the plague.

Though Illumi notices the small man’s arm around Kalluto. And Alluka’s hand entwined with her little brother’s. They’re almost like a family, and he feels gutted that he’s not included.

“It’s not good.” Hisoka looks a bit pale to Machi’s eye. “Our best bet might be to wreck ourselves on the shoals.”

“And then what? We’re stranded?”

“We can rebuild, provided we run aground at the right place.” Hisoka’s knuckles are white. Why the fuck did he sign up to be responsible for 200,000 lives?

And why the fuck does he care?

He doesn’t, that’s why. He merely wants not to be arrested for accidentally killing several hundred thousand people. Purposeful killing he’d accept. But not accidental.

“Look, it depends how much longer Chrollo can hold the ship together.”

* * *

 

“Agh.” Beyond, despite his strength, has spent the most time of anyone exposed to the smoke. He bends over and retches on the stairs.

“Breathe. Just breathe.” Leorio holds the much larger man upright. Well, while he’s here, he might as well seize the opportunity. “You’re serious, Kurapika?”

“About what?” Kurapika asks thinly. “We need to get away from the smoke.”

“You’re just going to leave him there, son?” Beyond shakes his head. “Hoping he’ll die and free you of whatever it is you’re fighting inside?”

“You have no idea.” Kurapika’s eyes burn. That may be partially the smoke.

“He’s not wrong,” Leorio says.

“It’s my duty.”

“You’re always punishing yourself by what you think you need to do.” Leorio points at him. “Let your friends shoulder your duty. And _go_.”

* * *

 

Chrollo doesn’t know how long he’s been here, but the smoke has mostly dissipated.

He can’t feel his fingers, and all he sees is green smoke piling up below the bungee gum plug. Ready to implode.

Shizuku is slumped in the corner. She looks alive, but vomit runs from her lips. Chrollo has managed to tie Fun Fun Cloth over her mouth to keep her from breathing more in.

He almost feels heroic. Maybe there’s an echo of good left in him. Not that Chrollo has ever enjoyed labels like _good_ and _bad_. But this feels pretty good. Good enough that maybe Kurapika will think fondly of him.

His eyes fade. He stumbles, and before he can catch himself, Kurapika’s slender arms hold him up.

“Nen smoke…” Chrollo murmurs. He feels so, so weak right now. This is a new feeling. “Don’t let me pass out, Kurapika.”

“I’ve got you.” Kurapika summons his Holy Chain and presses it to Chrollo’s throat. He coughs through the remaining smoke. “We’re not breathing it in anymore. We’ve just got to survive whatever we did breathe.”

“Sure,” Chrollo slurs in his ear.

Kurapika tightens his hold on Chrollo. “I know you don’t want to let 200,000 people die.”

“No, you don’t.” Chrollo, in addition to this penetrating weakness, feels contrary. “I would if it got what I wanted.”

“I don’t believe you.” Kurapika is perfectly willing to argue if it keeps Chrollo conscious.

“You do. You thought I hurt Hisoka…” Chrollo sways again, and Kurapika pulls him against his chest.

Chrollo’s phone, though waterlogged, rings.

“Hello?” Kurapika snatches it from the fluffy coat pocker. He doesn’t care who’s calling.

“Oh, Kurapika.” Illumi sounds calm as ever. He doesn’t even sound surprised to hear Kurapika instead of Chrollo. “How much longer can you hold it?”

“I don’t know. Long enough. I hope.” Kurapika wipes his streaming eyes. The salt of dried sea actually feels good against whatever poisonous grime coats him.

“We’re going to try to run aground, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means don’t let the smoke get the best of you,” Illumi says curtly.

Kurapika’s blood chills. Illumi and Hisoka are all the way towards the top of the Black Whale. “Who’s sick?”

The only response is a click in his ear.

 

* * *

Illumi paces the wheelhouse. Hisoka clicks his tongue in disapproval, but otherwise the clown is silent – definitely not a good sign.

Alluka and Kalluto are fine – Alluka, most likely due to Nanika’s influence and Kalluto due to his Zoldyck training. Feitan, however, has been vomiting for an hour, and Machi lies moaning on the floor. Hisoka is trying not to collapse, but his legs grow progressively shakier.

“Please be okay.” Kalluto shakes his pseudo-mother. “Machi.”

“I’m fine!” She slaps Kalluto’s hand away before groaning. She moved too fast.

Illumi bends over his brother. His image reflects in Kalluto’s furious eyes.

He’s not sure Kalluto’s friends – and his, or his semi-friends, or they could be friends if he wants friends, but he’s not sure he does and he’s not sure he doesn’t and that’s all very confusing and irrelevant right now – will make it another hour.

And where the hell is Killua? Doesn’t he care? Is he dead? No, the poison wouldn’t hurt him, but Illumi can’t _see_ him to be certain.

Well, if Killua isn’t going to save the day, Illumi will. He’ll do it. He’ll use the power, even if it’s not his and, provided Killua doesn’t change his mind, it never will be. “Nanika?”

“Nanika is scared of you,” Alluka informs him.

“Well, I’m not asking, Nanika.” Illumi sounds strangled. “I’m commanding.”

Alluka’s shoulders sink.

“Illumi, are you sure?” Hisoka asks nervously.

“Nanika, beach us in a place shallow enough that we won’t sink and deep enough we’ll be able to escape.” Illumi ignores Hisoka’s glare and Feitan’s twitching jaw.

Nanika looks terrified. “’Kay.”

She closes her eyes, and with a violent rush, Illumi feels the ship soar ahead.

The entire ship shudders, and Feitan flops around the floor. Illumi barely keeps his balance, and Hisoka is sent sprawling over the wheel.

“Are we beached?” Illumi demands. Fine. He’ll be the villain. He just saved his family’s friends and his husband. And now he’ll ask for her to heal the rest of them.

Nanika squeals and covers her ears. “You don’t know what you just did!”

 

* * *

 

Kurapika is thrown into Chrollo. He tries to right himself, but Chrollo has already sunk to the floor. His Holy Chain has only done so much against this smog.

“Chrollo!” Kurapika gasps as water – and sand – begin to re-enter the ship. Between Shizuku and Chrollo, he’s not sure he can –

He doesn't have time to worry. Kurapika, hacking in the remnants of toxin, throws his Chain Jail around both Spiders.

Chrollo might hate him for this – though why Kurapika cares, he’s stubbornly unsure – but Kurapika activates Emperor Time. He needs Enhancer-level strength, and for that, he needs his Eyes.

 

* * *

 

Bonolenov leaps down the stairs. They’ve heard from everyone except Shizuku, and then came this bratty wannabe doctor insisting she’s in the brig.

Trying to save them all. Of course.

His bandages offer him the most protection against whatever is sickening the passengers. And so Bonolenov is charged with rescuing Troupe Member 8.

He’s truly afraid of losing another member. He can feel the fear coruscating off all of them. How much more can the Spider bear?

He hears the coughing first. There, two flights below: a figure crawling up the stairs, barely ahead of the water slowly leaking in. His heart quickens; this is too large to be Shizuku. And she cannot have been stupid enough to drown.

“Help, please,” croaks the figure, in an unfamiliar voice.

Bonolenov halts as soon as they come into focus.

Every hole his clan marked in his body sings with rage.

Shizuku, and Chrollo, chained and unconscious. They lie, helpless, before the kneeling, spent figure of the Chain Bastard.


	17. The Price of a Head

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Price of a Head**

 

“You bastard!” Bonolenov hauls Kurapika up by his collar.

“Wait,” Kurapika mumbles, but he can barely talk through his hoarseness. Kurapika is too sick to fight back; instead, he swings in Bonolenov’s arms.

“You fucking –” Bonolenov holds a nen spear to Kurapika’s throat.

Kurapika’s Scarlet Eyes fade. He’s too scared to keep Emperor Time running. Then again, perhaps this is the end. Perhaps Emperor Time has taken his death unto this point.

Bonolenov shakes his head as he hurls Kurapika to the slick stairs. He wants to kill the vengeful beast pathetically sliding towards the lapping waves. He does.

But.

As Bonolenov looms over this pathetic kid, he releases the small portion of his heart that has always wept over the Kurta massacre.

After all, he knows the life in a small clan. He escaped the Gyudondond when modern infrastructure finally imploded not only their land, but their culture.

He’d been glad. He’d wanted to escape.

Yet…if he had escaped and modernity had never come, if the Gyudondond had been slaughtered instead of merely scattered, would he have turned out so different from this kid?

“Get out of here, brat,” he says stiffly, kicking him in the side.

Kurapika is not too dizzy to realize the mercy he’s being shown by someone he hates. Once again. And, to make things worse, it’s mercy over a _misunderstanding_.

“Wait…” God damn him, why can’t Kurapika think of more words?

Chrollo’s breath breaks through Kurapika’s moan. “Bono, you are soft.”

“Danchou.” Bonolenov’s eyes are wide. He kneels besides his friend. “You’re awake.”

“I’m glad,” Chrollo whispers, his eyes roaming to Kurapika’s exhausted form. “He … rescued us.”

“What?!” Bonolenov turns back to Kurapika.

“Failed,” Kurapika manages, inciting Chrollo’s indignation.

“Looks like you kept everyone from drowning to me,” Bonolenov says.

“He’s a masochist,” Chrollo mutters. His eyes smile at Kurapika, even if his mouth is too tired.

“So. How are we gonna do this?” Bonolenov scans the three bodies at his feet. “I can’t carry all of you.”

“Carry Shizuku,” Chrollo commands. “She was…exposed the longest.”

“Done.” Bonolenov lifts the small woman with ease. “Danchou, lean on me. Kurta, the other side of me. Maybe between the two of you I’ll be balanced.”

Kurapika frowns as he climbs to his feet, clutching the bandaged man. He tugs one of the cloth strips loose and sees a distinctive hole. “You’re Gyudondond.”

How did he not know this?

“I am,” Bonolenov says quietly.

“I always…wanted…the holes…I was jealous.” Kurapika laughs weakly. A Gyudondond had married into their village when Kurapika was five. Her name as Ashkalinov. She told him and Pairo that when they grew up, she’d show them how to put holes in themselves.

“Ha. We used to say the Kurta were devils,” Bonolenov admits. “Now I think we were, instead.”

Chrollo says nothing, though the sadness in his eyes speaks for itself.

“Okay, let’s go. One step at a time.” Bonolenov shuffles towards the stairs, with three full-grown adults clinging to him for life, just one step ahead of the advancing flood.

 

* * *

 

 _You don’t know what you’ve done_? Is Nanika trying to deceive him with her pretty fears?

“I saved us, Thing. That’s what I did.” Illumi hoists Machi into his arms. “Kalluto, get our bro – I mean, our sister.”

Kalluto is mildly impressed as he grabs Alluka. _Sister_. So Illumi is trying.

“Get up.” Illumi points Hisoka towards Feitan. “Carry him.”

“Can I carry Machi instead?” Hisoka doesn’t move.

“Do you want to die?” Machi mumbles.

“I already have, dear.” Hisoka forces a chuckle as he briskly throws Feitan over his shoulders. “You’re so small, Feitan.”

“I don’t like you.” Feitan forces himself to speak.

“It’s mutual.” Hisoka frowns. He smells Machi’s perfume on Feitan…well, they were just searching for Kalluto and Alluka together. Surely that’s it.

“Everyone off until we can see how far it’s going to sink,” Hisoka instructs the First Officer.

“Need I remind you how many people are aboard? Or the dangers of the continent?”

“Need I remind you that we don’t know how far we’ll sinking, and people are ill?” Hisoka shoots back.

“How far will we sink?” Illumi turns back to Alluka, who begins to cry.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Make Nanika –”

“Nanika’s _scared_.” Alluka stomps her foot.

“Of what?” Illumi can’t fathom. “You have endless power.”

“Of them,” Nanika says suddenly. Her voice is flat.

“Who?”

“Excuse me,” says the First Mate, “but it’s time to head to the deck, expose the sick to fresh air, and explain what the blazes is happening.”

* * *

 

The deck and upper tier are crowded with hundreds of people. Panicked, crying, vomiting.

Hisoka, unable to don his disguise without Nen, isn’t sure he feels relieved that no one will mistake him for Baha.

Illumi pauses once they reach the top tier to look over the rail.

They’re beached upon long, slender sandbar that snakes towards a larger peninsula. An outcropping of the continent, Illumi assumes.

He gazes at the jungle beyond the beach. Trees soar higher than he’s ever seen, excepting the World Tree. Vines are draped like shawls around their curvaceous, knotted trunks. Jagged boulders peek out from behind their tree guardians. Aside from buzzing insects, no life forms are to be seen despite the fact that he can sense a higher concentration of nen here than anywhere he’s ever been.

It feels dreadful.

Hisoka swears behind him.

Illumi turns his attention back to the deck and promptly feels ill. Bodies lie about, ashen and bloated, as if they’ve choked to death on the gas.

There’s nothing to be done for them. Not even Nanika could restore these lumps of matter to their families.

Cheadle and other medics rush about, with only enough time to feel the empty pulse, shake her head, and leave before the family screams.

Hisoka looks frantically towards Feitan. “You’re doing okay?”

“Fine,” grumbles the small man.

Hisoka, however, is not fine. He may not have breathed in much gas, but if there’s this many dead on the top tier, there’s probably hundreds dead below deck. And he – he was the captain.

This is different than the spectators’ deaths during his fight with Chrollo. Different than the hunter exam.

Because Hisoka had never volunteered to take charge of those people. Here, though, he was – is – their captain.

And he’s going to pretend he’s fine, like nothing is the matter. He already knows this. Because he wont let them hunt him down for some nonsense justice. Captain Baha must die.

If only he’d not killed Kortopi. He’d just never foreseen a use for the mopman before this moment. How inconvenient.

* * *

 

“It’s another calamity!” wails a woman. She shoves the man next to her, presumably her husband. “You’ve brought us here to die!”

“Mom!” a child shrieks, clawing at the face of a dead woman.

“This is chaos,” says Killua. Oito presses her hand to her mouth, and Gon fights the urge to scream alongside the miserable citizens.

“We need to hide,” Melody says suddenly. A chill filters into her heart.

“From what?” Oito’s voice breaks. “We don’t even know what caused this.”

“Um. We do.” Gon whispers, pushing Oito into Melody’s grasp. Because he sees what Melody sees: ahead, at the bow of the ship, stands Prince Tseriednich. Surrounded by armed bodyguards.

Oito lets out a strangled gasp. She clamps her hand on her daughter’s mouth as her bodyguards shove her away as fast as they can move.

Prince Tserriednich steps forward. He eagerly accepts the wires a scarred woman hands him, wires to the ship’s intercom. “Citizens of the Great Kakin Empire. I’m sure you’re all wondering the reason for this destruction.”

Killua gestures for them to hide in the nearest stairwell. He closes the door, just partly, so that they can listen.

Tserriednich’s voice breaks, though he struggles to hide his smile. “No doubt many of you know of my imprisonment on false charges. It appears, from what my guards have pieced together, that it was all a part of the plot to destroy our Empire, to steal our treasure and glory.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Oito mutters, ducking her head.

He pauses. “King Nasubi has been assassinated.”

Oito’s mouth falls open.

“The royal vaults desecrated.”

“Are those really equivalent?” Gon asks.

Tserriednich’s slick voice rises. “And now, our ship attacked with nen. Innocent people injured. All thanks to the Phantom Troupe of Meteor City.”

Gon and Killua exchange looks.

 _We’re about to be screwed_ , Killua realizes.

“They’ll never possess half the riches we do, and so they’ve sought to destroy us. They,” he says, with a dramatic pause, “helped by Princess Camilla.”

“Oh?” At the forefront of the stern, where she belongs by royal birth, Camilla raises her eyebrow.

“Oh, indeed.” Tserriednich points at her. “There is our traitor.”

Morena waves a hand, and green smoke emits from Camilla’s mouth.

“No – what?!” Camilla exclaims, coughing and dizzy. “This is nonsense!”

_Can’t they all see she’s poisoned, too? Why is it coming from her?_

For the first time in her short life, Camilla feels panic.

“Citizens of Kakin. We together can stop this. By ending these Phantom Spiders and those who aid them. Carry forth justice,” suggests Tserriednich.

“No – stop.” Camilla is too ill to fight. “He’s lying…”

“Shouldn’t there be a trial first?” Prince Halkenburg speaks up, throwing Tserriednich a pleading glance. He loves his brother, and he cannot allow him to commit another atrocity.

“I agree,” says Prince Zhang Lei.

“Oh? Is this a challenge?” Tserriednich smiles. “In the middle of decisive evidence?”

“If you mean to kill your sister, it is absolutely a challenge,” says Zhang Lei.

“Is it not true, Camilla, that you allied yourself with the Phantom Troupe?” Tserriednich snaps his fingers, and Morena’s henchmen drag forth the bearded man that Illumi, from his position to the side, recalls Chrollo using for information, back when he was hunting Hisoka and Kurapika.

“You are a bodyguard of Prince Camilla. You also contacted the Phantom Troupe, did you not?” purrs the Prince.

“Yes, but not –” The man is not given a chance to explain himself. His head is splattered across the deck. Those nearest cry out, though Illumi must wonder if they are more disgusted by the blood splattered across them than the death that caused its splattering.

“Bring Camilla forth.” Tserriednich spreads his arms wide. A ruthless grin adorns his face.

“Get your hands off me!” Prince Camilla thrashes lamely.

“You put us in grave danger in this wild continent. You most likely killed our father, all over wealth! Do you have anything to say?” Tserriednich shakes with excitement disguised as righteous fury.

Camilla narrows her eyes. She will not be defeated by her slimy brother. She is destined to rule.

Before she can summon her guardian spirit beast, her head begins to melt.

More smoke emits from her as she shrieks. Her voice trembles with the anguish of someone who’s been reduced to the trash humans should never be reduced to. Someone whose future was suddenly ripped away.

When his sister is nothing but a smoldering puddle before him, Tserrriednich turns once more to the crowd.

“We stand on a continent teeming with danger. Before we embark, we must ensure that only the noble, only those of us who care for others, continue. My father’s quest for greed will not be carried forth.” His voice even trembles with faux sincerity.

“Now, go forth and hunt the Phantom Troupe. Whoever brings me their heads will be appointed as a noble house on this fertile continent.”

 

* * *

 

“What just happened?” Gon asks dully as Killua closes the door.

“Let’s go.” Melody grabs Oito.

“No, we can’t –” Oito looks around the stairwell wildly. “Where can we go? If we stay - maybe we can help –”

“We’re going anywhere but here,” Killua says gruffly.

“But _where_?” Oito cries. “Where else do I have to go? Should I just leave my family?”

Kakin has been her entire life. Her gross husband, whom she considered an honor to marry, is deceased. All she’s ever had is Woble, and she knows this, but it still hurts to lose more.

“You’ll go with us,” Killua says softly, dragging her backwards.

The door is yanked open by a frantic, gangly man. He wails, with a tattoo of a spider on his wrist, as he is wrenched backwards.   
            “Inspect his tattoo!” screams a woman, as the man howls with indignation.

“Hold onto me.” Killua grabs Gon, Oito, and Melody. His Godspeed will work for now.

 

* * *

 

“You’re fine, Illumi. You haven’t been with the troupe long. I doubt they know you as a member.” Hisoka snorts. “Though you were dumb enough to put a real tattoo over your heart.”

Illumi doesn’t do things halfway. Just the tip would never work for him. It’s why Hisoka loves his husband. Partially.

“People saw us,” Illumi says tightly, watching the crowds vandalize each other. “But I’m not worried about me.”

“I can take care of myself,” Kalluto demands.

“And if you’re protecting Alluka?” Illumi counters.

Alluka stands slightly behind Kalluto. It’s all he’s ever wanted, but not like this. “Um.”

“Um, you’re a liability.” Illumi wags his index finger. “Alluka, please go find Killua. He can keep you safer than we can.”

He’s doing the right thing, right? Why won’t he look for Hisoka’s approval? His husband is right there. Next to him. And Illumi won’t look.

“Okay.” Alluka looks chastened.

“No, stay.” Kalluto clutches her hands. “We just became friends.”

“She is not your friend, she’s your sister,” Illumi says instantly. Or can she be both? He’s never really considered that.

“I think she’s both,” Kalluto hisses, confirming Illumi’s suspicions.

“Let go, Kalluto. I’ll be okay.” Alluka kisses his cheek, and flees.

Illumi touches the spot by his cheek, as if missing the kiss he didn’t receive.

 

* * *

 

“What is happening?” Kurapika’s head is just beginning to clear. Shizuku remains unconscious, and Chrollo is ghastly pale. The steps have required more exertion than he currently has strength.

“My foul deeds have caught me,” Chrollo suggests with a sober expression.

“You don’t believe that,” Kurapika says, prompting a weak smirk from his lover.

“He’s far too recognizable.” Bonolenov removes the wrappings on his head. “Help me.”

Kurapika uses his still-clumsy fingers to wrap the cloth around Chrollo’s forehead.

“You’re sure you don’t want to turn me in?” Chrollo can’t help asking. He does, however, like the feeling of Kura’s fingers on his forehead. It’s the only sensation he really likes right now. This poison is eating him alive.

“People are coming.” Bonolenov listens to the footsteps on the staircase. “They’re sweeping the ship. Fuckers.”

“It’s amazing how stupid people can be,” Kurapika agrees, despite hating himself for agreeing. Their odds of escaping aren’t high, short of drastic action. And Kurapika admits he has always been one for drastic action. “Here.”

He uses a chain to smash the glass to a window. “Let’s go.”

“Out? Into the Dark Continent?” Bonolenov gapes at him.

“Do you have a better idea? At least to lie low, near the ship, lest we be reduced to atoms or whatever the hell the Prince has planned.” Kurapika shoves Bonolenov towards the window. “Put your hand in mine, Chrollo.”

He’s often had nightmares about the need to escape from a narrow window while an enemy encloses upon him. But now, as the vigilantes hurtle towards them, Kurapika’s heart stings with anxiety.

He doesn’t want Chrollo to die.

Or Bonolenov, or even Shizuku. Hell, they didn’t even _do_ this.

“I recognize him!” A woman points down the stairwell, towards Chrollo. “That coat. I’d recognize it anywhere. He killed my husband in Heaven’s Arena just last month! It’s _him_!”

Kurapika hisses towards Bonolenov and shoves Chrollo behind him. The man crumples onto Kurapika’s shoulders. “Don’t fall.”

“I did it,” Chrollo admits. He coughs into Kurapika’s ear.

“I know,” Kurapika replies, watching the people descend upon them. “Was there a doubt?”

Chrollo swallows. No, of course Kurapika shouldn’t doubt his sins.

A boy, perhaps Gon and Killua’s age, with wide green eyes, glares at Kurapika, who tenses. “Do you know how many people lie dead upstairs?!”

“Are you defending them, kid?” interrupts an older man, with straw-colored hair and grey eyebrows.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Kurapika says fiercely, igniting his scarlet eyes. A distraction, perhaps, but the truth is he just wants to frighten them. And to stop hiding.

“The Devil!” shouts a plump woman with cherry red lips. “He’s probably another spider.”

“He’s not,” Chrollo croaks. Is it to spare Kurapika? Or to give him another out, another chance to deliver him up to justice and death?

Reason isn’t going to work on panicked people. Kurapika’s skin crawls at the mere fact that he’s been mistaken for a Spider.

He’s not one of them. He can’t be.

His voice is weak. And he’s going to echo Chrollo and try reason, even if his brain knows it’s futile. “If you know I am a Kurta, then you know that I of all people would never absolve the Phantom Troupe of blame they deserve. The Spiders truly aren’t the cause of whatever happened tonight.”

“Oh, and how do you know, angel of mercy?” mocks the Straw Man.

“I have no more mercy left to give.” Kurapika shakes as he draws himself up, because he’s not letting them take Chrollo from him, to be torn apart by vigilante justice. The irony tingles his senses, but now is not the time to consider the implications. “The spiders don’t act without their leader’s approval, and he never gave them an order. I’m telling the truth.”

Kurapika steps backwards. “I was with him all evening.”

Bonolenov gapes at him. Kurapika’s feels his accusatory eyes roaming up and down him, focusing on the way he holds Chrollo’s hand in his sweating palm.

“Perhaps he gave the order before you saw him,” snaps the kid.

“He didn’t.” Kurapika glances behind him, into Chrollo’s shadowed eyes. “I believe him.”

And, somehow, he truly does.

Chrollo looks stunned. This is the first time Kurapika has ever assumed – not good – but not _evil_ – of him.

“What are you, his whore?” spits the man.

“I’m the devil. You said it yourself.” Kurapika edges back again. The windowsill presses into his spine. “If you think the Phantom Troupe is frightening, you should fight one of us devils.”

Kurapika yanks Chrollo after him. They flip into the shallow water below. Her feels Bonolenov and Shizuku splash behind him as he drags his lover towards the shore.

“There are trees not far beyond. For now, we won’t go far.” Kurapika has no intention of looking into Bonolenov’s face after his confession. Tribes are always the most judgmental, even when you’re not sleeping with your family’s killer.

 

* * *

 

Alluka stumbles through the frenzied crowds on the deck. She’s sure she looks like another innocent little girl. Not the creature that’s about to bring more calamity upon them.

 _Help me_ , Nanika whines.

 _Help_ me, Alluka retorts. _We’ve got to find Killua with Oito_.

 _But if I use my power, they’ll find us._ Nanika gasps.

 _They’re already going to find us_ , Alluka says. _Illumi ruined that._

 _Even if we run, they’ll still come here_ , says Nanika. _We’re hopeless_.

 _Killua says we’re not_. Alluka is thrown down to the ground. A woman trips on her hem as she tries to stand, and a towering man shoves her into the wall.

The world is unkind.

The world doesn’t care about the Zoldyck daughter huddled and helpless in the corner of the ship deck.

She’s tired of people rescuing her.

She’s tired of running.

She wishes she knew what to do. What will earn her the most love?

Even with Nanika, why is she always alone?


	18. Defenders

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Defenders**

 

Kurapika wrings his waterlogged tunic into a stream. They’re still within sight of the beach, but no one has dared follow them into the Dark Continent. Cowards, the lot of them.

“I found fruit.” Bonolenov emerges from the shadowed forest to hold forth two red melons the size of his boxing gloves. “This will do for tonight, I assume.”

“Thank you.” Kurapika accepts one with a nervous laugh.

“They almost look like your eyes, Kura,” Chrollo says from where he lies at the base of a mysterious tree with gurgling roots.

Kurapika rolls his eyes as he turns to face his lover. “You’re sure you’re not hallucinating?”

“Not entirely.” Chrollo points above Kurapika’s head. “For instance, the giant spider hanging above you.”

“What?!” Kurapika stumbles and cranes his neck.

“Oh, forgive me, that was a metaphor.” Chrollo chuckles to himself. Shizuku stirs to his right.

Bonolenov shakes his head. He glances down towards his phone. “Sounds like Phinks and the others will meet us by morning, provided they can escape.”

“They can,” Chrollo says.

Bonolenov nods. “Then what’s our plan?”

“Well. We know there’s plenty of weapon-ready lifeforms here. And nen. We’ll improvise.” Chrollo closes his eyes. He’s still not quite himself.

“Rest. I’ll be on guard duty for now.” Bonolenov gazes towards Shizuku. “Would you two like privacy? I’m sure you have much to discuss.”

Kurapika flushes.

Bonolenov doesn’t wait for an answer before scooping Shizuku off and heading down towards the tall grass by the beach. Perfect to watch from.

Kurapika watches him go. He wonders if he could have been friends with this man.

“You defended me,” Chrollo murmurs, interrupting his thoughts. A small smile rests on his lips.

“I need you to help me find the eyes, after all.” Kurapika pushes a piece of melon into Chrollo’s mouth. “Chew. You need to eat.”

“What if I eat you…” Chrollo grins as he swallows. “Okay, that was a terrible line.”

“It was appalling, actually.” Kurapika nestles besides Chrollo, munching on his own portion.

Chrollo closes his eyes. Should he say it? “I realized something back on the ship.”

Kurapika listens.

“I … felt different when you said something good about me. I wish I’d given you more opportunities to say positives,” Chrollo confesses.

“Are you … sorry?” Kurapika brushes his knuckles against Chrollo’s cheek.

Chrollo props himself up against the tree. He looks away from Kurapika. “We probably killed your sister in the first round.”

Kurapika catches his breath.

“She would have been killed quickly. I promise. But the others, the ones with the eyes, like your Pairo, would have been skinned alive. Just to make your eyes turn that pretty color.” Chrollo looks at his hands, which ought to be stained scarlet by this point. The melon juice is a thin substitute.

“I’ve said I didn’t enjoy it, and that’s true. But it’s also true that I like the feelings that murder gives me – control, accomplishment, purpose, even. As though by taking a life, I could unlock its mystery. The mystery of why life even is.” Chrollo sighs.

“The parents were last. They didn’t much fight, for the most part. The elder had volunteered his life for the children, so we saved him as the final death. I viewed it as an ironic turn, like in literature.” Chrollo glances sideways at Kurapika’s ill face.

Kurapika says nothing. He’s not sure what to say. If there’s anything left to scream.

“I don’t know who killed Pairo. I don’t remember your friend’s face.”

Kurapika is not surprised. In a way, he’s relieved; suppose it had been Chrollo?

Chrollo’s voice picks up urgency. “Do you understand now? I cannot say I am sorry. There is no undoing it. There is too much to apologize for, and an apology won’t solve enough.”

“And if you don’t apologize – if you continue to suffer guilt, that will provide more atonement?” Kurapika asks through the lump in his throat.

“Perhaps. Somewhere, there’s a god who would see it as such.” Chrollo snorts. “I, too, Kurapika, am a masochist.”

“What if I told you – I really – I really want you to say you’re sorry?” Kurapika lets his tears fall. “Maybe then I can allow my anger to abate. Maybe I’ll carry my guilt forever, but maybe your apology will soothe my turmoil. I just – I want – I want someone, anyone, to regret the pain they caused my clan. I want them to regret it, and I want to _hear_ them regret it.”

“The pain we cause your clan, or you?”

“Both.” Kurapika digs his nails into his palms. “I’m in pain, too. I wish I had died with them. It hurts, Chrollo. You hurt me.”

Chrollo stretches out his hands to take Kurapika’s face in his.

His eyes swim before Kurapika’s. “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

Kurapika sniffles.

“And so did your clan,” Chrollo says.

He releases his lover and bows his head to the verdant soil, inches from Kurapika’s knees. “I’m sorry.”

He won’t ask for forgiveness, but he can at least apologize.

“If you keep acting like this – someday, I may forgive you,” Kurapika says, unbidden. He places a hand under Chrollo’s chin and pulls his face to look towards him. “You make me want to forgive you.”

Chrollo’s eyes radiate in the moonlight that filters through the trees. His lips part slightly as he catches his breath on wonder.

He dares to raise a hand to Kurapika’s heart, which is pounding.

“Don’t be afraid,” Kurapika whispers.

“I’ve always been afraid of myself,” Chrollo whispers back. His fingers wrap around Kurapika’s head, pushing him downward until their lips meet. _Please, forgive me_.

“That makes two of us.” Kurapika deepens their kiss.

“Do you know what I want?” Chrollo asks, rubbing Kurapika’s back. He rests his forehead against Kurapika’s chest. “I want you to have me. For as little as I am worth, I still want that.”

“You’re worth more than you comprehend, Spider,” Kurapika says immediately. He pauses. “Wait, are you asking me…”

Chrollo smirks slyly.

“You spent too much time with Hisoka,” Kurapika jokes.

“I _do_ have Bungee Gum right now.” Chrollo kisses Kurapika’s neck.

“I’ve never…”

“You’ve felt me do it,” Chrollo says. “If you want.”

Kurapika nods, slowly. “I do want you.”

He lays Chrollo down on the leaves and peppers his face with kisses.

Previously, Kurapika has always felt like he’s lost himself to Chrollo. This time, however, he feels the opposite. Like he’s finding himself within the feeling of Chrollo’s warmth, of his strong thighs wrapped around Kurapika, in the ecstasy of Chrollo’s face and his little groans and every gasp.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not going with you,” Hisoka tells Illumi, seizing his stubbornness once more. “I can’t. The ship…”

“Don’t pretend you have loyalty now,” Machi says, still leaning against Illumi.

“You had better leave. Unless you’re foolish enough to think you will be spared?” The First Mate sighs.

“Maybe I like the challenge of certain death,” Hisoka replies.

“You don’t,” Illumi says.

“He fought Chrollo,” Feitan reminds them.

“Uh,” says Machi. “And then went berserk when he lost.”

“That was fun,” Hisoka lies.

“Fuck off,” Feitan shoots back.

“You’re coming with us, Clown,” Kalluto says. “The Dark Continent is surely as much a test of survival as Tserriednich’s plot.”

“Then it shouldn’t matter if I stay, little one.” Hisoka licks his lips.

“I wasn’t asking.” Kalluto raises his fan. “You’re coming with us. It’s a mere fact.”

“Though you’ll never replace your replacement,” Machi adds sweetly, producing a small smile from Kalluto.

“I don’t answer to brats,” Hisoka replies.

“My brother is not a brat,” Illumi says immediately.

“Look. This will probably take time to fix. For now, you had best lay low until this monster of a prince is dealt with,” says the First Mate.

“Why are you helping us?” Hisoka demands, exasperated.

“Because I don’t want innocent people to die. And I don’t want to die, and our odds are better with you alive. Is it that hard?” The First Mate crosses his arms. “Not every person needs to belong to a group to help them.”

The people before him all seem confused.

“Whatever. You’ll learn eventually.” The First Mate waves his hand. “Go.”

“Wait.” Kalluto hesitates. “What is your name?”

“You can call me Mercyn.” The man spins around on his heel and marches away.

 

* * *

 

The third tier has a pile of collapsible lifeboats, and the vigilantes have already searched and found nothing.

Killua zips his friends in the opposite direction of the crowds as fast as he can. They can row ashore under the cover of dark.

“Surely you are not escaping, Oito.” A tall woman with almond eyes and hair that falls to her ears steps in front of Killua, undaunted by his speed.

“Who are you?” Killua exclaims, skidding to a halt.

“I am Queen Swinko-Swinko Hui Guo Rou,” she says, shoving him back. Her austere expression remains fixed. “Oito, I cannot believe someone even as young as yourself would have such disregard for the rules.”

“And if Camilla had been your daughter, Swinko-Swinko?” Gon retorts. “She’s _dead_ , forever! And that Prince probably murdered your husband.”

“This is a tradition!” fumes Swinko-swinko. “By escaping, you forfeit your daughter’s rights to the throne.”

“I don’t care about the throne. I care that my daughter has the choice to stay alive.” Oito clenches her jaw.

Melody clears her throat. “What else do you have to say?”

Swinko-swinko looks impressed. She steps forward and slips a bank note in Oito’s hand. “Don’t leave us forever. Return, with some of those calamities if you must. My son may not have the will to fight, but I have the fight to keep him alive for a little longer.”

“Your money is meaningless here, Swinko-Swinko,” Oito says quietly. “But I do not care.”

“Promise me you will return and help us. Or I’ll scream, and ensure you and Woble’s deaths.” Swinko-Swinko’s voice trembles.

“She means it,” Melody says.

“I can’t blame her,” Oito says, surprising herself. If it were Woble staying aboard to drink and feast, she would threaten whomever she could. She would ally herself with the darkest of creatures without hesitation.

How can she keep such a vow? How can she refuse? “I promise, Swinko-Swinko.”

“On your daughter’s life.”

“On my life. You know I would not promise my child’s,” Oito says evenly.

“Do not dawdle,” the fifth queen says, stepping aside. She strides towards the inner shipe. “I will direct the passengers away from you.”

“Illumi’s already ashore.” Killua checks his phone as Gon lugs the boat towards the edge. “We’ll have to reconvene with the rest of the Troupe. It’s our best chance for survival right now.”

“Compared to the royals, I imagine they’ll be fine company,” Oito says dryly.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we got outsmarted by a prissy prince,” Phinks bemoans as he wades ashore.

“We’ll get him yet,” Nobunaga declares. “The important thing is that Danchou and Shizuku are alive.”

“And that you two are.” Franklin hits them again on the backs of their heads. “Gave us quite a scare, not answering your damned phones.”

“Phinks didn’t want to let a gaggle of stowaway children drown,” Nobunaga says.

“And I wanted to kill the guard forcing them back into the water,” Phinks adds.

“Yeah, sure.” Franklin shakes his head.

“Well, well, well, look who made it ashore.” Hisoka pokes his head out of the trees. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be fixing the mess you've allowed?” Phinks snarls.

“ _Should_ is a very different word from _will_ ,” Hisoka says with a dramatic shrug.

“Stop, Hisoka.” Illumi steps out of the forest, with Machi and Feitan behind him. “Given his own association with the troupe, he had to leave. You should understand that. We left the First Mate in charge for now.”

He only now realizes he didn’t turn Mercyn into a Needleman. How risky. He’s ashamed of himself. Oh well. The ship won’t be sailing anytime in the near future.

“Besides, now really isn’t the time for divisions,” Hisoka prattles.

“Should you really be trying to pick a fight right now?” Machi asks. This is the most revenge she’ll allow herself. “You’re nenless.”

“He’s what?” Phinks’ mouth falls.

“He’s – wait?” Nobunaga turns his head. “Come again?”

“Danchou stole Hisoka’s nen to keep afloat,” Feitan says. He feels mostly recovered, but Machi still sways slightly. Kalluto has his arm around her waist.

“He better fucking return it,” Hisoka says with a creepy, serene smile, as if he’s not screaming internally.

“Of course he will,” Illumi says breezily. “Shall we get on with this?”

“I’m sorry, did he give it up willingly? Whose idea was it?” Phinks is too busy laughing.

“I knew I liked Illumi,” Nobunaga decides.

“Feitan, what about your girl?” Phinks changes the subject.

“She can care for herself,” Feitan says, avoiding their eyes.

Hisoka’s eyes flit back and forth from Machi to Feitan. No fucking way.

“Long time no see.” Bonolenov waves to them from the grass beyond Illumi, interrupting Hisoka’s thoughts.

“Shizuku!” Phinks races over to the dizzy lady.

“She breathed in the most, but she’s slowly improving. Water seemed to help.” Bonolenov points to the trickling stream ahead. He’ll let Danchou handle the matter of Kurapika.

“Good.” Franklin ruffles Shizuku’s hair. “We’re proud of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Yay.”

“Where’s Danchou?” Phinks asks. Hisoka shoves him back.

“ _I_ said, where is Chrollo?” Hisoka asks. “Because I need to see him first.”

Bonolenov licks his lips. He points towards a grove of trees. “He’s resting.”

“Well, I need my nen back.” Hisoka turns to go, but Phinks has already thrown him onto the beach.

“Excuse me. I’ll see him, clown.” He stalks into the woods.

Hisoka sends Illumi his best please-murder-him eyes, but Illumi simply turns his palms up.

Hisoka feels powerless and dismayed. He hasn’t been this feeble since – well, in a long while.

He immediately covers his misery with his weaponized charm. “Is this because I won’t sleep with you?!”

“You what?” Machi blinks as Nobunaga chokes behind them.

“Not now,” Illumi replies crisply.

“We all know they’re gay,” Machi mutters to Feitan.

 

* * *

 

A few meters into the dense foliage, Phinks halts. An aura of pure horror settles over him.

The chain user, the enemy he will never forgive or forget, perches atop Danchou. His defiling movements are explicit – no, he can’t – he is, isn’t he –

Phinks sees nothing but Scarlet.

“Son of a _bitch_!”


	19. Phinks Shares His Anger

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Phinks Shares His Anger**

 

A mere second ago, Chrollo had been smiling up at Kurapika with dreamy eyes, his muscles soaring full of freedom and hope.

One crash and a scream later, Chrollo barely has time to teleport Kurapika behind him, out of Phinks’ path.

“You fucking bastard!” Phinks’ fist lands on the tree besides Chrollo, splintering it.

“ _Wait_ ,” Chrollo says urgently, throwing himself in front of Kurapika. He scrambles to pull his coat to cover himself, as Kurapika wraps his tunic around his legs.

Phinks doubles over, hyperventilating. “What – what – you mean he wasn’t –”

He screams at the top of his lungs.

“I appreciate your concern.” Chrollo glances nonchalantly behind him to Kurapika’s flushed face. He’s not going to dignify Phinks’ question with a direct answer. “It appears we need to get better about locking the door.”

“We’re in a jungle, idiot,” Kurapika pants. Despite his distaste, he finds himself huddling behind the head of the Spiders. Chrollo. The man he might love.

“What is happening?” Phinks squeals.

“What’s wrong?!” Nobunaga leaps through the trees.

Chrollo winces.

“Shit!” Feitan and Machi follow immediately to grab Nobunaga. Machi’s stomach heaves, but she’s not letting go.

Hisoka laughs maniacally, Illumi attempts – futilely – to cover Kalluto’s eyes, and Franklin looks to be developing a migraine.

“What’s going on?” Nobunaga whispers.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hisoka makes a rude hand gesture.

Phink’s eyes sweep the scene. Chrollo and the unforgiveable Chain Bastard, both with tousled hair, in states of undress. Chrollo, his nen book open, positioned in front of Kurapika as if defending him. And a bruise, a very obvious hickey, on Chrollo’s neck.

            Phinks is now considering gouging his own eyes out.

Bonolenov hangs his head in the background. Shizuku clings to him, but she, too, seems unsurprised.

“It seems we were behind the times,” Franklin comments, crossing his arms. He’s more intrigued than offended.

“You two are – you were – ” Phinks blubbers.

“I did, yes.” Chrollo refuses to feel ashamed. “It’s good to see you alive, Phinks.”

The jungle is silent, save for rushing water, hooting birds, and buzzing insects.

“Did Uvogin mean nothing to you?!” Nobunaga spits at last. Feitan tightens his grip on his wrist.

“Nobunaga!” Shizuku glares at him. She winces at the sudden pang in her head.

“What?” he cries. “Danchou – Danchou acts as if this bastard were a family member, instead of our killer.”

“He certainly did _not_ act like a family member,” Machi mutters. “I think that’s the point.”

“Why?” Nobunaga stomps his feet. “I demand an answer.”

“It’s not your place to demand anything of the boss,” Feitan says coldly. “Whatever Danchou did, he did for the Troupe.”

“Of course,” Chrollo says smoothly.

Illumi tilts his head. He does not approve. Because Killua’s friend, whatever his face with the angel hair and devil eyes, acts like a man in love. Or, in denial about love. Same thing.

And from Kalluto’s narrowed – but still open – eyes, his brother feels the same.

But from Chrollo’s stance besides Kurapika, Illumi has to wonder if Chrollo does, in fact, feel more than lust for Killua’s friend. He allows himself to feel enough emotion to hope that is the case.

“I can’t accept this,” Nobunaga protests.

“I don’t want to,” Franklin says, “but I think we should hear him out.”

“I understand reasons for cooperation. But this? He killed my best friend!” Nobunaga pulls on his hair. “And Paku, who didn’t deserve any of this.”

“I know, Nobunaga,” Chrollo says quietly. His eyes are wet.

Because he misses Paku and Uvogin every day. But he sees why Nobunaga would think he has desecrated their memory.

And yet, and yet, has Kurapika not suffered worse? If Kurapika can forgive him, and he might, can Chrollo not forgive Kurapika? Or has he already, from the moment Kurapika voiced Uvo’s last words?

“Do you? Remember the last time you kept me from fighting someone bent on our destruction?” Nobunaga whirls around to point at Hisoka.

“I was a member of the Troupe at that time, and Kurapika is not,” Hisoka reminds them.

“Whose side are you on?” Kalluto asks with exasperation.

“Why does someone always ask me that? Oh, right, me.” Hisoka wiggles his eyebrows.

“Illumi, keep him from making this worse,” Machi says, focusing on holding a straining Nobunaga.

“Would Pakunoda want us mourning at the extend of the Spider?” Feitan asks.

“Uvogin would,” Phinks says.

“Uvogin’s heart was bigger than his brain.” Feitan sniffs. “You know it.”

Kurapika squirms at the obvious moisture in Chrollo’s eyes.

“He died to save you all. He didn’t want to answer my questions,” Kurapika forces himself to speak.

He still recalls the moment as vividly as it happened. The moment his chain pierced Troupe Number 11’s heart, and Uvogin fell before him, and he didn’t think it real.

“I wasn’t expecting him to care about you.” Kurapika stares at the earth.

He buried his enormous body, all in a cloud of shock and because it seemed the lone decency he could extend to the Troupe without desecrating his family. And, after killing, he had needed to prove himself better than the Troupe.

Had he done the right thing then?

Or has he never questioned it because he can’t bear to think that he has committed something so staining as murder?

“You hate him.” Chrollo addresses Nobunaga. “He took Uvo and Paku, and that can’t be undone. But…we took Pairo. And his elder. His mother, his father, his sister. And one-hundred-twenty-three others.”

Kurapika gulps. So Chrollo does remember all the names. And the numbers. He – he still has the list, doesn’t he?

“Are you saying he was justified?!” Phinks snaps.

“I am not. Just that…perhaps we are not so different.” Chrollo glances from face-to-face. “I myself do not want a spider married to Hisoka. But right now, it doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is our survival, and to do that, we _have_ to cooperate.”

“This is more than cooperation,” Phinks mutters.

“And your point is?”

* * *

 

“I’m pretty sure that yell decimated all their plans to lay low,” Killua says, heading towards the sound.

“Are we sure we should be heading towards it?” Oito queries, hoisting her daughter further up on her hip.

“It was a yell of confusion and despair, not fear,” Melody says. “I hear angry heartbeats, some ill, but none like they’ve been attacked. Twelve – no, thirteen – in total.”

“The whole troupe and Kurapika must be there. And your siblings,” Gon says to Killua, who nods with relief.

“Wonder how they’re taking Kurapika’s presence,” Killua says.

“Maybe that’s the reason for their anger,” Melody says.

“One of these days,” Oito says carefully, “I would like to know the full story of my bodyguard and the Phantom Troupe.”

“It’s not a nice tale,” Gon says.

“Do I look like a nice lady?” Oito shakes her head.

“Kind of?” Killua grins.

Oito makes a face at him. She hopes Woble will grow to be a strong child like Gon and Killua.

In the midst of the trees, Killua spies Kurapika’s blonde hair. “Kurapika!”

Their friend turns around, a guilty expression on his face. His chest is bare, and his tunic sags around his legs.

“Where are his clothes,” Oito mutters to Melody, who cringes.

“Oh, Queen Oito.” Chrollo turns around, and he, too, appears to be wearing only a coat. “You’ll have to forgive our disheveled appearance.”

“We just escaped disaster; who of us is not a mess?” Oito surveys the troupe.

“Some more than others,” a ponytailed man says, throwing a glare towards Chrollo. “I’ll accept you, Danchou, but not this relationship. If I see even a hint of him moving to kill you, I’ll remove his head.”

Kurapika cringes. In front of his employer?

“Now I know where my bodyguard’s been spending his spare nights. I did wonder,” Oito says wryly.

“I apologize, Queen Oito,” Kurapika says in a reedy tone.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Oito gives him her most reassuring smile. She wonders what it would be like to be with someone physically attractive. She’ll never know.

“You’re really a queen?” Phinks’ face turns red.

“I am, and this is Prince Woble.” Oito nods towards the child in her arms.

“But she’s a girl.” Phinks scrunches up his face.

“All the royal children of Kakin are Princes. Haven’t you paid attention?” Hisoka asks.

Woble claps her hands and reaches for Kurapika.

“She misses her friend,” Oito says with a smile.

Nobunaga huffs as Kurapika tightens his tunic before taking Woble. He dangles his chains before her, allowing her to tug on them and cackle with so much glee even Nobunaga’s heart softens. Though just for the Prince! Not the Chain Bastard.

“Well. Have we a plan?” Oito asks.

“We heard _your_ plans for Meteor City, Queen Oito,” Franklin says. “Thank you.”

“Hmmph, and he’s your bodyguard, you say?” Nobunaga points towards Kurapika. “I’ll tolerate him if you can control him.”

“I will try my best,” Oito says calmly. “In exchange, you will each give me a lesson in nen. Otherwise, I may have to order him to kill you.”

“I like this feisty lady,” Phinks says with a grin.

“Wait,” says Killua anxiously. “Melody, you said there were thirteen? I only count twelve – Illumi, where the hell is Alluka?!”

 

* * *

 

Alluka wipes her frantic tears. She stops to catch her breath and hiccup. She can’t find Killua. She’s useless without Nanika’s powers.

 _Useless_.

All she’s wanted is to help, but it’s always Nanika helping. She’s just a shell for Nanika, a useless shell.

_Nanika? Nanika?_

_What?_ ask her petrified friend.

_What if we – what if, instead of being asked, we just do?_

“Are you okay, dear?” The scarred woman who’d supported the bad Prince stands behind her. In a slinky black dress Alluka would have liked have when she grows up.

“I’m fine!” she cries, stumbling back.

“It’s scary, I know. We’ll succeed. I promise, you will be safe.” The woman reaches out a hand. “No need to fear me; I have a soft spot for children. I’m Morena.”

“Your friend is cruel,” Alluka says, refusing to take her hand.

“Indeed he is.” Morena touches her scar. “But I pity him. He’s the product of a cruel system…in which children are carelessly created by callous parents…as byproducts of pleasure.”

The kid seems to jerk at the mention of parents. Raising an eyebrow, Morena decides to continue. “Only to be scarred for life if they don’t fit…or forced into a killing contest. All because of their ridiculous family, something they could never choose.”

Alluka hesitates. She knows a thing or two about families not liking you.

“What did your family…do to you?” Morena asks, inching closer. “They’ve abandoned you, haven’t they?”

“My brothers love me,” Alluka says. And they do, don’t they? They even love Nanika.

Morena leans close, too close. “I can give you a new family.”

“Stop!” Alluka gasps as the woman’s lips bite into hers.

“Ew!” She drops to the ground, wiping her mouth. “Ew, ew, ew…”

Nanika screams. Internally.

Because Alluka is falling silent. Her brain is morphing, becoming – she’s liking this Moron Morena.

Nanika does not like her.

“Now, I’ve seen you around the doctors, hmm?” Morena leans forward.

“Yes,” says Alluka dully.

 _Alluka? Alluka_? Nanika shrieks her friend’s name, but there is no response.

“I want you to kill the doctor. Cheadle Yorkshire.” She’s refusing my followers – your new family – entry to the infirmary.” Morena smiles.

 _Alluka_? Nanika demands as Alluka nods.

_Alluka? Alluka? Can you hear me?_

_Wake up!_

_Alluka!_

* * *

 

“We have to get back to the ship,” Kalluto cries.

“No,” Killua says, fighting to maintain his wits. “We call Leorio.”

He throws Illumi the dirtiest look he can manage. Gon follows suit, holding Killua in a hug.

“Can’t Nanika just teleport her over here?” Illumi asks. Killua hates him again, and he didn’t even mean harm this time.

“What is Nanika?” Nobunaga asks.

“Later.” Machi waves her hand.

Kalluto looks troubled. He remembers what she said just before the destruction. “Nanika is scared of her power right now.”

“Has she used it recently?” Killua stops. “Illumi!”

“She’s why we’re alive right now, Killua,” Illumi says with a calm he doesn’t feel.

“You used her! Like she was a thing!” Killua yells back. “You hate her!”

Illumi can’t win. He’s always going to disappoint Killua. Even when he saves his life. This is why his parents favored Killua. They made the right decision, because Illumi is nothing.

“Why do you hate your sister?” Franklin frowns at their latest member.

“I don’t,” Illumi says. “Killua, I only wanted to save us all. I promise. There wasn’t any dark motivation.”

“Like I’d trust you.”

Illumi looks heartsick. “I didn’t…”

Hisoka would like to defend Illumi, but there’s not much of a defense to be offered. He _was_ kind of an ass to the kid.

“We’ll find her,” Chrollo declares. His mind whirs; with such a strange power, is it possible Nanika is from the Dark Continent? Is this why she’s afraid?

He’ll discuss this with Kurapika once they find the child.

“We promise,” Oito adds. “Let’s move closer to the beach for better signal.”

Phinks catches Kurapika’s elbow as soon as Chrollo has moved two steps away. “Just a second.”

Kurapika stares up at him. Chrollo keeps walking, leaving him with Phinks, like he actually trusts his Spiders. Of course he does.

Phinks pulls Kurapika closer. “If you hurt him, I’ll ensure you suffer the slowest, most painful death possible.”

“You’re the third to tell me thus,” Kurapika replies as cattily as he can.

“Guess we’ll have to tear you to enough pieces for the rest of us, then.”


	20. Amorphous

**Chapter Twenty**

**Amorphous**

 

“I don’t know why these people aren’t getting better,” Leorio confides to Cheadle Yorkshire.

There’s over a hundred people crammed into floors, shelves, and the few beds they have in the medical bay. Most are beginning to stir and cough. A few, however, continue to vomit, growing paler and colder.

“Use your nen,” the doctor replies, tapping the button she wears on her nose.

“Auras?”

“Mmm. It seems those who are able to use nen recovered the most quickly. The less experience they have with using their auras, the less likely they are to survive.” Cheadle’s voice drips with disapproval. “Eugenics, in a way.”

“Do you think the prince is that powerful?”

“Someone is. I don’t really care who or what they are.” Cheadle shakes her head. Her lily-like voice sounds poisoned. “Whenever I find them, I’m going to stop them. And force them to look at all these suffering people!”

“Do you think they’ll even care?” Leorio would like to think they would. But he’s no longer sure.

“I won’t know until I try it,” she seethes. “My bite is worse than my bark, I assure you.”

“I believe you.” Leorio holds up his hands. “Beyond, how’s it going?”

“No more sick people, at least,” says their temporary guard. “A few fakes.”

“The fakers are also concerning,” Cheadle muses.

“It’s as if someone’s controlling them,” Beyond agrees.

“How do you figure?” Leorio holds up a bucket before their eldest patient, a fail woman who gags up more bile every minute. She’s probably the next to go, if he had to guess – though Cheadle has commanded him to never guess – and it kills him that he cannot save her.

“Nen illnesses are the trickiest to cure. Remember that.” Cheadle nods towards him. Despite her firm tone, her eyes waver at the sight of the elderly woman.

“There must be something. I – I can’t be helpless again!” Leorio shakes. Again. Again, he’s watching Gon die.

“Well, what have we hear?” says a Beyond, sounding startled. Still, he opens the door.

“Hi, I’m here to see Leorio,” says a familiar voice.

Leorio turns around. “Alluka! What are you doing here?”

 

* * *

“This is terrible, terrible, terrible,” Illumi mutters. As the troupe heads towards the beach, he yearns for Hisoka’s comfort. Gon and Melody have their arms around Killua. Machi and Feitan are holding Kalluto. And Illumi is all alone.

“You know, Chrollo,” Hisoka says instead, “if we’re about to risk our lives, I’d like to be able to defend myself.”

Of course, Illumi thinks. Of course Hisoka is focused on Bungee Gum, not Illumi. Illumi is selfish. Illumi caused this, because he’s not the great assassin he was raised to be. He’s a failure.

Chrollo sighs, but he did promise Illumi, and Illumi is a spider. He conjures Bandit’s Secret, rips out a page and thrusts it towards Hisoka.  
            “Thank you, asshole,” Hisoka whirls bungee gum around.

Woble gasps and grabbles for the pink cloud surrounding his fingertips. She nearly tumbles from Oito’s arms.

“Whoa, there.” Hisoka is taken aback. It’s not often he sees a child reach for him.

“Don’t corrupt the Prince, clown,” Phinks says.

Hisoka snorts. “I _did_ name it Bungee Gum, after all. It’s perfect for a child, when you think about it.”

Oito blinks. “I used to love that candy when I was young.”

“Can we make her Queen of Kakin?” Hisoka winks. “She has good taste. Quite literally.”

Illumi bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood. It’s how he grounds himself. Always has. Grandfather could be flogging him and Dad injecting poison and Mom screaming at him because he let Killua stalk fireflies at night, but he could always keep his bearings if he could taste his salty, metallic blood.

His husband is joking right now, as if he doesn’t care that Illumi’s brother – no, his sister – is missing, and that Killua now hates Illumi. As if all he cares about is getting Bungee Gum back so he can have fun.

“Stop,” Melody gasps suddenly.

Chrollo likes Melody. She’s a quiet one, but everyone listens immediately. She is powerful, more powerful than she knows. In a way, she reminds him of Kortopi.

He’d like her power for himself, but he also knows Kurapika would kill him. And so he won’t, because he’d rather Kurapika like him.

But … this Zoldyck child might be better off without her power, from what Chrollo can deduce.

Suffice to say, Chrollo’s unsure of his future direction, and he hates being unsure.

            Melody gasps again, and Gon reaches to take her withered hand, without a second glance, because he’s Gon.

            For a moment, Kurapika thinks he’s forgotten to breathe. And then he sees everyone hacking for air, as black gas rushes through them like ghosts.

            In another second, however, Kurapika feels himself inhale again. The gas is gone.

            Killua curses. Ahead, a vaporous fog slinks across the shallow bay. “It’s heading towards the ship!”

 

* * *

 

            Tserriednich is not in the least surprised that the Troupe has escaped. If they survive the Continent – and even the most skilled hunters have failed – they’ll provide a useful distraction for his citizens.

            People are very predictable, and very boring. People run after whatever someone else declares just without thinking. It’s convenient for a ruler; dull for a people-observer.

            The ship rolls, sending Tserriednich into the wall. His nose spurts blood; well, the smell of salt has always interested him. “Theta, be a dear and check that for me?”

            His bodyguard, the one woman he doesn’t want to sleep with because she frightens him, dutifully exits the room.

            The Spiders aren’t so stupid as to try to slaughter 200,000 people. He esteems them higher than that. They’re fond of shows, but no one would hear of their victory here. There’s no impetus for a fight right now.

            Theta soars back into the room. “It’s – it’s – your Highness, you must see this.”

            Tserriednich pokes his head out of the door to see black, grinning waifs suspending in air before the ship.

            “Ai! Ai! Ai!” They cackle.

            “What are these?” he wonders. While others cry and cower, he is mesmerized. He imagines one of these entities in a tank, and the brilliance it would take to capture one.

           

* * *

 

_Alluka?_

_Alluka, listen, sweetie._

_Please?_

_Aren’t we friends?_

_Didn’t you say we could be sisters_? Nanika shivers as Alluka steps closer to the tall doctor, the funny one who is Big Brother’s friend.

And beyond him is Doctor Yorkshire, tending to an elderly woman who is going to die very soon.

Nanika screams. _Wake up_!

But Alluka won’t stir. She’s hypnotized by whatever that bad lady did.

Where is Big Brother? Nanika doesn’t know what to do. If anyone can break this spell, Killua can.

Alluka’s questions float back into Nanika’s mind.

_Nanika? Nanika?_

_What?_

_What if we – what if, instead of being asked, we just do?_

Nanika has never really been allowed to do her own will. She’s bound by nen. She’s trapped on a continent not her own.

 _What do you want? I will give you three things._ So the elders told her. When you’re a nebulous entity, anything is possible from your imagination. It was a right of passage for all of her cohort.

Everyone had the most abstract of desires. And then Nanika’s turn had come.

_A name._

_A body._

_And the third: a person to love me._

They were too concrete. She failed her test, failed her life, but got her wishes.

If she uses nen again, she’ll squander any hope she has that her former home won’t return to find her and slaughter the tangible humans.

And then she will never have love again. And Nanika craves love.

Alluka eyes Cheadle, and the scalpel behind her. Nanika squeezes her eyes shut.

_Nanika? Nanika?_

_What?_

_What if we – what if, instead of being asked, we just do?_

_‘Kay. I’m taking control, Alluka. And I’m healing you first._

 

* * *

 

“They’re Ai; have you never read the chronicles of previous voyages?” Chrollo asks. He crouches along the forest edge, watching the beasts hover over the ship.

“That sounds boring,” Hisoka says.

“You captained a ship to a place whose dangers you didn’t know?” Illumi is appalled. This goes against all his training.

_Ai. Ai. Ai._

Kalluto’s face crumples.

And Killua glances at him, unable to deny it any longer. “You see it, don’t you?”

“See what?” Illumi asks importantly.

“Illumi, _listen_ ,” Kurapika croaks. He looks ill, and with a grimace, Chrollo realizes precisely why.

_Ai. Ai. Ai._

“They’re like your sister,” Feitan says. For a rare moment, he sounds truly nonplussed.

“They sound the same,” Machi agrees. Hisoka narrows his eyes at the two of them.

Illumi looks at Chrollo. His voice rings hollow. “My sister is one of the Five Calamities.”

“A member of them, yes,” Chrollo says, as if it’s just another piece of news he doesn’t care about. But someone has to remain calm. “Have you truly not suspected?”

“Why would I suspect?” Illumi’s face twists. “Killua!”

“I didn’t know, either,” Killua says angrily.

“So what?” Gon asks. “She’s still Nanika! And Alluka. We like them. They’re still our friend.”

“How did they know to come here?” Oito asks, hugging Woble.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hisoka points at Illumi. “Now we know _what you just did_.”

Illumi pales. Hisoka didn’t actually know that was possible, but apparently it is.

“You motherfucker!” Killua clenches his jaw.

Illumi’s lip trembles. Just a moment. Killua ignores it, but Kalluto is stunned to see his eldest brother undone.

“Language,” Machi says, as Nobunaga laughs.

“I’ll fix this.” Illumi insists. It’s all he can say. It’s all he knows. When you break something, you fix it. And fixing usually means killing.

“We don’t even know what they want,” Chrollo says.

“Does it matter?” Illumi strides towards the water.

“You can’t just run off,” Melody exclaims.

Illumi ignores her. For Killua’s sake. He’ll save Alluka. No matter what Calamities. His life is nothing with Killua hating him.

* * *

 

“Nanika?” Leorio pats the child’s head. “Nice to see you. Are you okay?”

“Alluka is asleep now,” says Nanika.

“What _is_ that?” Cheadle wonders if she’s just witnesses an illness or a demonic possession. The cute little girl’s eye are now pitch black, as is her mouth.

“I’m Nanika.” The black-eyed creature steps forward to touch the sick old lady. “Hey, feel better.”

Cheadle’s mouth falls open. Color returns to the woman’s pallid face.

“Aren’t you a cutie,” says the lady, beaming at her like she’s a lovable savior.

“Thank you!” Nanika cheers before rushing towards the next person.

“Nanika, are you sure you should be doing this?” Leorio squeaks. He really doesn’t want to be crushed to atoms.

Nanika turns to him. “You should run.”

“Why?” Leorio protests.

“What is going on?” Cheadle grabs the girl’s arm. “As the head of the medical bay, I demand an answer.”

“She’s also Chairman of the Hunter Association. Pretty impressive,” Leorio says.

“You’re nice.” Nanika grins wider.

Cheadle does her best to control her fear; for all her wisdom, she’s never much cared for the unknown. “What is happening, Miss Nanika?”

“Healing people,” Nanika replies, turning back to the young child, younger than Kalluto, whimpering as he holds his stomach. “Nanika is good.”

“You are,” Leorio affirms, and Nanika squeals with delight.

_Praise, praise, I could live on praise._

The ship shudders, and Cheadle curses. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Not again!”

_Ai._

_Ai._

_Ai._

“Huh?” Leorio claps a hand over his ears. The noise is high-pitched enough to hurt.

“They’re here,” Nanika whispers.

“Who?” Leorio turns to her.

“Ai, obviously,” Cheadle says tightly. “One of the Five Calamities. A gaseous species of unknown power.”

“Hi, hi, Ai,” Nanika mumbles, hurrying from person to person. She can’t heal them all, there isn’t time, so she’ll heal them halfway. Their bodies can do the rest.

“Ai.” Cheadle turns to her, slowly. “Say ‘Ai.’”

“Ai.” Nanika replies slowly. Will she be praised or hurt? She feels once more like she did when the Zoldycks began to note her presence. Desperate for love, expecting punishment.

Cheadle’s eyes widen. “You.”

“Did you call them here?!” Leorio looks stunned.

Beyond, however, merely looks outside. He almost seemed to expect the answer.

“No.” Nanika sniffles, continuing her healing. Neither Cheadle nor Leorio move to stop her, at least.

“But my nen did.” She hunches her shoulders, like she’s afraid.

“Nanika – that’s your name, right – do you like the other Ai?” Cheadle asks. Now is not the time to panic. Or to be angry.

“They don’t like me.” Nanika begins to cry. “They made Nanika leave, and never come back.”

“That’s horrible!” Leorio doesn’t care if Nanika is a Calamity. She’s Killua’s sister, or one of them. He _likes_ her.

“I’m sad. They’re going to be mad I’m back,” Nanika says, not stopping her healing.

Leorio and Cheadle scamper after her. “Can you talk to them? Can we help?”

Cheadle interrupts. “What do they want, Nanika?”

“You to go ‘way.”

“And if we don’t?” Cheadle asks tremulously.

“Squish.” Nanika claps her hands together. “Condense the matter. Condense the tangible.”

“Can you talk to them?” Leorio asks again. “I mean, Nanika, I’d be real happy if they squished that loathsome cockroach of a prince, to be honest, but I’d rather not the rest of the people die.”

Nanika hesitates. The chef who let Alluka and Kalluto leave with stolen ice cream. Chrollo, who thinks she’s cool. Killua, wherever he is.

She doesn’t want them to condense.

“Come.” She finishes her healing – a sloppy effort, but she thinks it will work – and grabs Cheadle’s hands. “There is a Morena who wants you dead. I saved you from Alluka. She was hurt by her.”

“Morena Prudo?” Beyond looks incensed. That bitch.

“Don’t blame Alluka.”

“We don’t blame either you or Alluka,” Leorio assures her. “We never have.”

 

* * *

 

“Illumi, stop!” Chrollo teleports him back to land as soon as his bloodlust becomes noticeable.

Hisoka, for all his faults, shows relief as he grabs his husband. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“The Spider has lost too many already,” Chrollo continues.

Kurapika winces as Phinks elbows him.

Chrollo glares at Phinks, who glares right back.

_Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai. Ai._

The sound is childlike, yet so unfamiliar Killua fears he may go insane from dissonance alone.

Suddenly, the cloud begins to retreat. Chrollo readies Fun Fun Cloth, ready to hide everyone if he has to.

But four solid figures join the amorphous cloud of dozens, no, hundreds, of creatures. Three are thrown onto the beach, and the final figure settles her feet on the ground.

“Leorio!” Gon cries.

“Ha?” Their friend spits out sand.

“Miss Yorkshire.” Kurapika nods stiffly. “And Mr. Netero.”

“I should have known you’d be involved in trouble,” Cheadle mutters.

“He is the Rat, after all.” Beyond guffaws.

“The Chain Bastard’s in the Zodiacs, too?” Nobunaga complains.

“Alluka.” Illumi stares at his sister as she hovers about the sand.

“Alluka and me have to go ’way for a bit,” says Nanika. She looks very, very sad.

“No!” Kalluto tries to run forward, but Feitan restrains him.

Illumi thinks, with annoyance, that he should be the one protecting Kalluto. Feitan isn’t a brother, after all.

“Okay. Then take me with you,” Killua says.

“Can’t.”

“Why not? I thought we were friends,” Killua says, his eyes pooling.

“We are. I love you, Big Brother.” Nanika vanishes, and Alluka returns, rubbing her eyes.

“You can’t go with them!” Killua points at the Ai. “They’ll hurt you!”

Though he must wonder if they’ll hurt worse than the Zoldycks.

“Oh! Killua.” Alluka gulps. “I don’t mind going. I got kissed my some weird lady and then I tried to kill Dr. Yorkshire and then Nanika saved everyone.” She smiles tearfully. “So I don’t mind going for a little bit.”

“It might not be a little bit,” Illumi says. “You can’t trust them.”

 _Ai. Ai. Ai!_ The creatures advance upon Illumi.

“Stop, Illumi,” Phinks says.

Kurapika throws Chain Jail around Illumi. “He’s now in Zetsu.”

Illumi looks horrified to be so helpless. Chrollo smiles slightly at Kurapika, and even Phinks begrudgingly accepts this once the Ai stop their movement.

“Ai. He’s fine. He’s my biggest brother. Ai,” Nanika says, emerging once more. “Good-bye, friends.”

Killua collapses to his knees as the Ai retreat into the forest, leaving him once more without his sisters.

 

**_A note: I will be away for a few days, so the next update may take a bit longer (still, think ≤a week at most). But I will post it as soon as I can! <3 Thank you SO much for reading and for your lovely reviews! _ **


	21. Wheels, Hamster Wheels

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Wheels, Hamster Wheels**

 

Prince Tserreidnich is most disconcerted by this new development. The image of a tiny girl walking up to those gaseous monsters, speaking to them in a language he doesn’t understand and almost prefers not to, and leaving with them, has burned itself into his mind.

Not only that, but the vacuum left in the departure of their nen devours him.

As long as there are creatures with more powerful nen than he, he’s in danger. Suppose his siblings strike a deal with these creatures? Suppose the girl is an assassin working with them?

In politics, it pays to be paranoid.

He stretches in his seat on his father’s couch. The chamber still feels haunted by Nasubi’s blood. It thrills Tserriednich, softens him, stirs his desire for more.

“Morena, be a dear and fetch Prince Halkenburg for me?” Tserriednich bares his teeth in a smile.

Morena knows that when her loathsome brother uses his falsetto, he’s scheming. He’s a vicious beast loaded with vices, but he’s far from stupid. How can he not see that she’s using him to bring about Kakin’s demise?

“He’s a popular prince, brother,” she says. She doesn’t exactly trust Tserriednich enough to not remind him of their relationship every other sentence.

“Indeed. I shan’t execute a popular, whimsical man.” Tserriednich flicks his fingers. “But is it not reasonable that the whimsical chase after the aerated?”

“It is indeed,” she says coolly.

When Morena brings Halkenburg before the ruling prince, the broader, baser brother does not waste time kneeling.

“Brother, what are you doing?” whispers the man on his knees.

So he’s the sort to plot on his knees. Morena respects that. She’d respect him more if he’s done more plotting when children, and not just the country, were in danger.

“As you are my brother, I had hoped you could see me beyond a man usurping the throne, and a man reforming our kingdom. No more must we kill each other,” Tserriednich declares.

“Brother, you have no interest in ruling,” Halkenburg says, remaining on his knees.

“Ah, yes, but power, now, that is interesting.” Tserriednich crosses his arms. “You know me too well to doubt it.”

“And when Kakin lies in ruins because our your disinterest?”

“It won’t. I’m not interested in Kakin. I’m interested in the plenty _here_. The treasure. Exotic creatures. Wealth and sex and drink are pleasant, to be sure, but you can find those anywhere, whether you’re a king of a mafia boss. The mysteries of the universe, however, now, lie in the Dark Continent, and I intend to seek them.” Tserriednich prays his brother understands. Because yes, for all his demons, Tserriednich is a praying man.

“So…” Halkenburg waits for his brother to say it.

“I wish for you to rule Kakin, once the continent is safe from the calamities.” Tserriednich extends a hand.

Morena grinds her teeth. She rarely underestimates an opponent, but it appears that now she has.

“And how to ensure the safety of an entire continent?” Halkenburg waits.

“One step at a time, as Camilla used to remind us.” Tserriednich pauses.

Halkenburg’s eyes simmer at her mention, but he does not accurse Tserriednich of murder. Good.

“Brother, we cannot risk another attack. After the death of Captain Baha, Captain Mercyn reports that it will take weeks to repair the ship.” Tserreidnich crosses his arms. “I want you as my right hand man, by my side, to hunt the gas bastards to the end of the earth.”

“It will be the end of many’s time on earth,” Halkenburg replies respectfully, “if we rush in there.”

“You’ll plan, of course.” Tserriednich waves his hand.

“That,” Morena says sweetly, savoring every moment she has to interrupt Tserriednich, “will not be a problem. You won’t be hunting the Ai strictly; you’ll be hunting the Phantom Troupe.”

“I don’t follow.” Halkenburg waits. Tserriednich himself looks puzzled.

“The little magician girl who left with them is a Zoldyck child.”

Tserriednich glares at Morena. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

“It seemed irrelevant until now,” she replies smoothly. A Zoldyck of nen powerful enough to join a calamity without fear, powerful to break her spell, is even more desirable to control, is surely able to destroy Kakin, but she will wait for that.

“The Zoldycks are intimately entwined with the Phantom Troupe,” says Morena. “There’s little question that the Troupe will attempt an allyship with these demons. Find the Troupe, you find the Ai. Find the Ai, we all get what we want.”

“And what do _you_ want?” Halkenburg asks.

Morena’s eyes glitter. Halkenburg is not a man to lie to, so she’ll settle for a half-truth. “The sight of Camilla, may she rest in peace, looming above our father’s corpse was a pleasant start. I want all injustice to end.”

* * *

“The child is a Zoldyck?” Beyond inquires.

The beach is full of Killua sobbing into Gon and Leorio’s arms, Kalluto punching the sand besides Machi and Feitan, and Illumi staring blankly at his brothers while Hisoka and the remainder of the Troupe guard him.

“She wasn’t trained like us. Nanika emerged too young,” Killua says, wiping his eyes. “And they locked her up.”

“How old is she?” Beyond frowns.

“Twelve years, eight months, two days, six hours, fifteen minutes.” Illumi says, as if this is information he’s memorized.

“The fuck?” Killua asks.  
“What? I know about all of you. I had to.” Illumi looks away.

“Creepy,” Feitan remarks, patting Kalluto’s shoulder.

“Your parents kept your sister locked up?” Oito is appalled.

“We couldn’t control it. There was a risk that her powers, or wish-granting, would destroy our entire family,” Illumi says. “It was my idea.”

“What.” Killua turns to him.

“Mother and Father said she was a dangerous creature and not to be considered a human. Because you cared for her, I had her locked up as opposed to killed,” Illumi says, as if it’s natural, as if he’s done a favor. “Milluki designed the doors.”

“But then you tried to kill her!” Killua leaps to his feet.

“You were older and perhaps better able to understand then. I had reason to believe we would all die if you saved Gon,” Illumi says firmly. “If you had told me the other rules, perhaps I would not have.”

“You would too,” Killua shoots back. “You just wanted to be free of her. You always did! You – you’re probably happy now!”

Illumi wants to reply that the entire family is safe, so of course he’s happy, but he really can’t be happy when Killua hates him. And when Kalluto is angry. And when Alluka is missing due to that Thing inside her.

“Nothing? You have no words?” Killua taunts.

“Kid, your brother looks miserable to me,” Bonolenov says quietly.

“It’s an act. It’s always an act.” Killua shakes his fist. “Right? Lesson one. Never reveal your real emotions!”

Hisoka purses his lips. Of all people’s eyes to meet, he meets Chrollo’s. But, to his surprise, there’s an understanding in the leader’s eyes. Because growing up in Meteor City, acting was all you had for defense when you were a child.

“If Alluka could be safe and join our family in full, I would gladly accept her,” Illumi replies tightly.

“That’s not love. That’s control! And I’m sick of it!” Killua screams. Gon looks firmly at the ground, refusing to raise his eyes. “You! You even put a needle in my head to keep me safe! Well, I’m happier without it and I’m happier without you and I bet Alluka is too!”

Illumi gasps.

_Happier._

_Without._

_Him?_

_But Killua is everything to him._

Kalluto sighs. “Killua.”

“What?!” Killua yells.

“Illumi didn’t put the needle in your head because he wanted to. It was Father’s idea,” Kalluto says dully. He doesn't exactly wish to help Illumi, but he does wish to be important to Killua and Alluka.

Killua’s mouth opens and closes.

“Don’t blame Father,” Illumi says quickly.

“Well, someone needs to be blamed. Do you want it to be you?” Machi demands.

“Maybe no one needs to be blamed,” Beyond says.

“I don’t know. I think parents putting a controlling device in one kid’s brain and considering killing another deserve blame,” Oito remarks acridly. “I feel pretty confident about that.”

“Stop,” Illumi commands.

“Fine. I’ll stop talking to you and just go find her.” Killua turns to go into the forest, but Hisoka’s bungee gum is already around his waist, and Chrollo has already sucked him back with nen.

The clown and the Spider glare at each other. So, are they uneasy allies now?

“Look,” says Chrollo, breaking in. “There’s not much we can do until tomorrow, when it’s light. And while Killua is not technically a member of our troupe, I propose we stick together until we find your sister.”

Killua frowns. “Huh?”

Chrollo approaches Killua. “Illumi and Kalluto are Spiders. I can’t very well allow their sister to be taken, can I?” He extends his hand.

“Danchou is right,” Franklin says. “Besides, if anyone stands a chance against that nen, we do.”

Killua is flabbergasted. “You...you’ll help us?”

“Remember,” Kurapika says feebly, “They do occasionally do charity work.”

Phinks looks incensed, but Shizuku uses Blinky to suck his mouth shut. Nobunaga, meanwhile, is held back by Franklin.

Chrollo looks at him. “You’ll come?”

“Killua is my friend. I wasn’t there for him before. I’ll be there now,” Kurpaika replies softly.

“Well, I can’t stay with just one bodyguard,” Oito says. “I’m coming, too.”

Melody nods.

“You’ll need doctors,” Cheadle says, elbowing Leorio. “And another guard, right, Beyond?”

“Right,” he mutters.

Both Killua and Illumi are stunned.

“We have one problem now, however,” says Shizuku. “We’ll just be liabilities flailing in the dark if we go now.”

“Melody can hear for us,” says Kurapika.

“Yes,” Melody says hesitantly. Why is she still hearing an extra heartbeat?

“No. It’s too dangerous, on a new continent. I propose we rest tonight and take shifts guarding – both threats from the ship, the forest, and keeping Illumi and Killua put.” Chrollo pauses as the two Zoldycks sulk. “The Ai move faster than us anyways. We’ll never catch up. We need to find their village.”

Kurapika and Bonolenov glance at each other. They both know a thing or two about finding hidden villages.

“Well, in good news,” Beyond says, digging into his pockets. “I have, like, two dozen cans of beer with me.”

“You what?” Phinks laughs with joy.

“I’m not even surprised,” Cheadle mutters. “I knew even Netero’s son couldn’t have muscles that thick.”

Illumi makes no move towards Beyond, but to everyone’s surprise, neither does Hisoka.

Hisoka’s eyes are on Machi, who has been tugged aside by Melody. They stand a few meters back, so he can’t hear what’s going on, but Machi’s face is red.

Melody pats Machi’s arms as an usually frantic look crosses Machi’s countenance.

Hisoka would pay to hear this conversation. Has someone else noticed Machi and Feitan? Machitan, he will call them. Will he have more fun exposing them or waiting for the dense Troupe members to wake up? Considering they couldn’t see Chrollo and Kurapika – Kurokura, he’ll say – he might be waiting a long time, and Hisoka is not a patient man.

* * *

“When did Nanika take over his sister?” Beyond asks quietly, as he dumps the beers onto the sand.

“Nine years ago? She was about two,” Leorio says, helping himself to a can. “Beer, Cheadle?”

Cheadle narrows her eyes as she shakes her head. Beyond looks almost relieved.

“How many are there? Of your siblings?”

“Five,” Illumi replies. Grabbing a beer like he’s become Hisoka and it’s his lifeline, “Alluka is the only girl.”

“But were there not two younger boys after Killua?” Beyond strokes his beard.

“How would you know?” Illumi asks sharply. “Oh, Grandpa. Naturally.”

“Alluka was born a girl in a boy’s body,” Chrollo adds, shooting Illumi a look.

“I see.” Beyond looks thoughtful.

“Do you have something to share with the class?” Cheadle asks.

“No,” Beyond says. “Not yet.”

* * *

“Can I talk to you?”

Chrollo is surprised to look up from where he has sat besides Kurapika and see Gon. “Hello.”

“I’m worried about Killua.”

“We all are,” Kurapika says.

“No. He reminds me of – me – before Pitou, the Chimera Ant.” Gon tears up. “I used up all my nen to defeat them because I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. I don’t want that to happen to him.”

“You lost all your nen?” Chrollo is both thoroughly impressed and thoroughly concerned.

Gon nods.

“Hisoka must have been devastated to lose a future fighting partner.” Chrollo can’t help the comment.

“He actually tried to help Illumi kill Alluka. Sort of.” Killua hurries over, and Gon clamps his mouth shut. “They almost succeeded.”

Killua remembers the bloodlust. And Gotoh. He misses Gotoh, and for all Illumi’s faults, Killua is certain his brother did not kill their butler.

“Did he?” Chrollo’s eyes sweep over to the newest spider. “I doubt Hisoka planned on allowing Gon to die. For all his faults, he is loyal to his fun.”

“Is he?” Kurapika asks. “Or is it a mask?”

Chrollo sighs. “I think we all wear masks, Chain Bastard.”

Kurapika nods. His eyes fill as he remembers the Phantom Troupe, and the humanity he unmasked. Now he’ll have to unmask the Zoldycks, and the complexity of the world threatens to drown him.

“So you met your father?” Kurapika asks instead. If he’s going to be a better friend, he should probably ask his friends about the important details he’s missed from their lives.

“Yes.” Gon looks…empty.

Kurapika’s lip twists. He knows that look. He felt the same emptiness after capturing Chrollo in Yorknew City.

What must it be like to have Hisoka care more than your own father? Is Kurapika, perhaps, better off than Gon to have his parents dead? Has Kurapika been pitying himself and ignoring his friend’s pain? How is Gon so selfless that he can focus on his friends instead of his injustice?

“I encountered Ging Freecs once. In Meteor City.” Chrollo smirks. “I hated tourists who showed up to see the common cannibalism and acute disease. So I punched him.”

“You punched my dad?” Gon asks.

“I’ve done the same thing as Chrollo?” Leorio cries from the grass he’s supposed to be sleeping in, as if he’s suffering an identity crisis.

“I did.”

“Hmm.” Gon doesn’t look happy. Just…empty.

“What’s your dad like, Chrollo?” Killua asks, an edge to his voice _. Back off Gon, Spider-Boy._

“I’ve never met mine. He’s probably dead; people in Meteor City don’t live very long. Disease or murder usually catch them. Sometimes both. Except Hisoka’s benefactor.” Chrollo has never really met that man, either, but he finances the circus and always had numerous women around him. He was the Troupe’s first heist.

“Benefactor?”

“Hisoka was one of the lucky ones in Meteor City. He learned enough circus skills from his Mafia mentor to leave.” Chrollo shrugs.

“I see,” Killua says. He didn’t know Hisoka was from Meteor City, though he isn’t surprised.

 

* * *

 

“At least we get beer out of this.” Phinks holds out several cans. “Or – well, do you mind, Queen Oito?”

“Just call me Oito, and I only mind if I can’t have one. Do you know how long it’s been since I drank beer? It’s always luxurious wine with exotic flavors not worth the price.”

“You’re not that old,” Phinks scoffs.

“How would you know?” Oito raises an eyebrow as she accepts a beer from his hand. “Whoa, Woble. No beer for you.”

Her child whimpers.

“Start the kid young.” Phinks grins. He pokes Woble’s nose, and the prince giggles. Distracted and happy once more.

“I think not. She likes the shine, I suppose.” The queen settles besides Phinks and Shizuku. “Tell me more about yourselves.”

“Why do you want to know?” Shizuku asks.

“I like hearing people’s stories.” Oito closes her eyes as she savors the taste of cheap beer. “People are always more than they appear.”

“Was Nasubi?” Phinks asks. He can’t help himself.

“Certainly. Just not in the ways that counted.” Oito frowns. “What kind of person marries a monarch just to allow their children the chance to die for a throne?”

“Many of you royals, apparently,” says Bonolenov, as gently as he can.

“Not me.” Oito looks sorrowful as she recalls Swinko-Swinko’s demand. “And you might be surprised.”

“Catch, Machi.” Hisoka tosses a can towards the pinkette wonder, his favorite tease.

Machi does indeed catch it with her nen stitches, as always. But in another second half the can is poured on the ground, and then handed to Kalluto.

“You get half,” Machi tells him.

“Suitable parenting,” Hisoka mocks. “I won’t toss you another.”  
Machi rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Hisoka takes a long, luxurious swig. “I’ve never known you to turn down beer.”

“I’m fine,” Machi says quickly. “I think the gas might still be affecting me, is all.”

“You look all right to me,” Cheadle calls. “But I can check you out later.”

Machi swallows. A pained expression crosses her face. “Uh, sure.”

The wheels in Hisoka’s brain – colorful, obnoxious hamster wheels, of course – begin to spin.

Machi leans close to Kalluto, who seems all too comfortable between his pseudomom and pseudodad.

Hisoka grins. A whine bubbles in his throat alongside the beer. _Could – no – oh, God, please grant me this._

* * *

 

“Something’s bothering you,” Chrollo says to Kurapika, once Gon and Killua have settled down away from them.

Kurapika hugs his knees to his chest. “Killua’s parents hurt him. Gon’s dad doesn’t care. Leorio’s childhood friend died because his parents couldn’t afford treatment. Hisoka’s closest parent was a Mafia mentor exploiting his skills. You don’t even know your dad.”

“People are very interesting, and very sad,” Chrollo says with a sigh.

“Why have I been so focused on myself?” Kurapika asks.

Chrollo gives him a quizzical look. He pulls Kurapika closer. “I think your entire clan’s slaughter was worse than most. But either way, you’re allowed to feel however you feel about it.” He grins. “So long as you don’t try to fight us! It’s _technically_ Troupe rules.”

Kurapika has to laugh. So he’s subject to Phantom Troupe rules, now, is he? He’ll think of it later. For once, he wants to stay present. To be a better person and help Killua and maybe atone for ignoring Gon. “Nobunaga is looking at us.”

Indeed, Nobunaga’s eyebrows are drawn together in displeasure. Danchou sits far too close to the Chain Bastard.

“Hmm. He’d best grow accustomed to us.” Chrollo looks troubled.

“Am I allowed to be petty, just once?” Kurapika asks.

“Once?” Chrollo snorts.

Kurapika grabs Chrollo’s face and pulls him close for a kiss.

“You know,” Chrollo murmurs, his lips against Kurapika’s, “it’s a bit unfair to use me against my own Troupe.”

“You’re not exactly complaining,” Kurapika replies.

“No, I’m not.” Chrollo pulls Kurapika onto his lap so he can kiss him deeper.


	22. Illumi Breaks Hisoka Who Breaks Machi Who Breaks Feitan Who Breaks Chrollo Who Breaks Kurapika, and So On

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Illumi Breaks Hisoka Who Breaks Machi Who Breaks Feitan Who Breaks Chrollo Who Breaks Kurapika, and So On**

Illumi cannot sleep. How can he? How can he, when Alluka is missing, when Killua is better off without him?

His progress – his worth in the family – depends entirely on Killua. It always has. And Killua has thrown him away, like he's trash.

Illumi is too cold to cry, but he pulls out his phone and, though his fingers stumble across the keypad, he sends Killua frantic message after message. He just – he needs Killua to love him.

Well, if he's drunk texting, he might as well go all the way. Illumi sends Hisoka a kissy emoji.

_Can I at least get a pity touch or something? Or am I waste to you too?_

But no one wakes up. Chrollo and Kurapika – former enemies – stand guard, like they've found new families in each other.

Well, Illumi cannot find a new family, even though he doesn't…dislike the troupe. He wants his own family. He wants Killua. And Hisoka.

How has getting married and teaming up with Killua destroyed his life? These were supposed to be the pinnacles of his life. As much a pinnacle as an assassin is allowed.

Illumi closes his eyes as the darkest thought crosses his mind: perhaps, if he pisses off his brothers enough, they'll be kind enough to kill him and remember him as a difficult kill.

But, to be honest, right now he's not even sure he can handle that. He'd probably just lie down and let them slit his throat.

* * *

Hisoka cracks open an eye in the misty morning to see nineteen texts on his phone. All from Illumi, who sleeps silently behind him.

_Killua_

_Killua let's talk_

_Killua I really have only tried to help_

_I don't want you to die_

_I care about you more than most family which I guess means I'm a terrible assassin_

_But when have I ever strayed before_

_Don't answer that_

_Killua I'm scared_

_I mean not really but I don't know_

_I will get Alluka back I promise_

_I know I'm not supposed to make promises but I'm drunk_

_I remember training you as a kid you were so smart and I felt like I mattered when you achieved_

_You made my life happy_

_Do you know that I would die if it would make you happy?_

_I've only ever wanted to be_

_I mean_

_I'm bad at talking even with alcohol_

_I need you to love me._

_It's the only thing I've ever needed._

Hisoka's stomach turns; he's overdosing on his husband's unvarnished authenticity.

Is Illumi really that lonely? He would die to make his brother happy? It's totally within his husband's character, but doesn't Illumi know Hisoka wants to matter to him, too? Hisoka wants to be his lover. Doesn't Illumi want to hang on for that, at least? Or have his past experiences ruined that for him, too?

Hisoka needs fresh air. Fortunately, he spies Machi sneaking off into the morning mist, and oh, is this the distraction he's been looking for.

* * *

Killua awakens with a pounding headache, sore eyes, and a nightmare that is apparently real. And, to top off, this misery sundae, he nearly screams at Illumi's texts.

A kissy emoji. An inquiry for pity and … sex?

 _I think you meant_  … Killua finishes with a clown emoji. He tosses his phone back to the earth, almost hoping it will shatter.

He looks over their makeshift camp. Chrollo and Kurapika seem to be discussing plans. Killua leaps to join them, but a small figure steps in his way.

"Hey there, Killua."

"Hi, Melody." Killua hates the pity in her eyes.

"It may surprise you, or perhaps you already know despite your denial – but your brother does care." Melody points to Illumi, who is groggily checking his phone.

Panic shoots through Illumi's usually passive face as he realizes he mixed up the messages to Hisoka and Killua.

"But holding me hostage – trying to kill Alluka – hurting me – that's not love," Killua says. "He's been nothing but pain for me."

"I agree." Melody sighs. "Forgive me, but Queen Oito is right. Your parents were not normal, Killua. Finding a normal way to love – one without hurt – will be difficult for all of you."

"Me?" Killua's mouth opens. Not him. Look at him, loving and helping Alluka. And Gon. And Kurapika and Leorio.

He's not damaged. He can't be.

"I think he's doing a great job," says Gon from behind.

Killua turns around with relief.

Gon slides an arm around Killua. He needs Killua to be okay, to be the calm one again, to be his best friend.

"Neither of us were treated well by our parents," Killua declares slowly, "but we will treat each other well, right?"

"That's right." Gon squeezes Killua's hand.

"I think you're off to an excellent start." Melody looks away, to Illumi, whose heartbeat is currently so anxious and broken she can't believe he used to be an assassin. "But you're going to need those who love you. And your brother does."

"Killua doesn't owe anything to Illumi after what he did," Gon protests.

"It's not always about owing." Melody draws a shaky breath. "I just wanted you to know before we head off…that…your brother does care. And, however flawed he is, he does not want to hurt you."

* * *

Machi stumbles into the forest and claps her hands against her mouth to mask her vomiting. At least most of their misfit Troupe seems to be asleep, or too private to inquire.

"God help me," she moans, as Melody's warning begins to sink in. Her eyes tear with the force of each gag.

"Your angel has arrived," says a smug voice from behind.

Machi gasps and whirls around. "Fuck off, clown!"

Hisoka perches on a log behind her, laughing.

"Mmm. First, inexplicably turning down beer. Second, inexplicable vomiting. You've eaten the same rabbit food as the rest of us." Hisoka counts off his fingers. "Third, you've seemed quite distressed since your mysterious conversation with Melody."

He tilts his head. "Now, if only all of those random symptoms had one. Simple. Explanation."

Machi feels cold. There is no. Fucking. Way. Hisoka knows.

"Does Feitan know yet?" Hisoka spreads his lips into a grin.

 _Fucker_!

Machi wraps her nen stitches around Hisoka's throat and pulls just enough to make him gasp. "I don't know what you're implying, scoundrel, but I'm going to kill you if you don't leave me alone."

"Oh no, please spare me." Hisoka clasps his hands together and tries not to cackle with glee. "Please, please, please – I want to be an uncle."

That's it. Machi knees him between his legs. "I will never let you near my kid!"

Hisoka springs backwards. "You  _confirmed_!"

The sheer delight on his face is sparklier than the morning sunlight slipping through the trees.

"Get back here!" Machi bolts after him.

* * *

"We're almost ready." Kurapika holds forth his Dowsing Chain. It swings further in the forest. "If we lose her trail, I'm stronger in Emperor Time."

"I'd rather you not use it," Chrollo says quietly.

Kurapika looks away. He's so confused.

He's not okay dying on this mission. And, sure, he's never been okay with dying, not until he recovered his brethren's eyes. But right now – their eyes don't anchor him to life.

If anything, he wants to stay alive to keep helping his friends. To keep holding Chrollo's hand at night.

"You look sentimental," Chrollo murmurs. "Thinking of reasons to stay alive?"

"No," Kurapika lies.

And Chrollo knows it. The leader smirks as he slips his arms around Kurapika. Right in front of everyone. "You must live as long as possible. Who else will annoy Nobunaga into crises of conscience? Who else will disrupt Phinks' appetite?"

"I thought you wanted me to cease my vengeance. We had a deal, remember?" Kurapika trembles. He doesn't wish to think of all the time he's already burned.

"Mmm, I do, but I'm open to renegotiation," Chrollo whispers.

"You're such scum, you know that?" Kurapika can't believe he's blushing in front of the Troupe, minus Machi and Hisoka for some reason.

"There are children present, you two," Oito calls. Phinks laughs loudly behind her.

"Now those two," Chrollo says, releasing Kurapika. "Those are interesting."

Kurapika's eyes turn Scarlet. "You're joking."

"Are you dense?" Chrollo tosses.

"No, I just –" Kurapika's eyes scour Phinks. The asshole is indeed sitting all too close to Oito. Looking at her like a treasure.  _Oh hell no._

"Bodyguard time?" Chrollo suggests.

"After we find Alluka," Kurapika seethes.

Chrollo is distracted by Hisoka, who darts into the clearing, puddled in a fit of giggles.

"Huh?" Cheadle looks confused.

"So, Feitan." Hisoka sidles up to the smaller man and wraps an arm around him.

"Get your hand off." Feitan's voice drips acid.

"I hear you've been cooking something special." Hisoka wiggles his eyebrows.

"What the fuck." Feitan gives him a strange look and steps out of Hisoka's reach.

"Is he always this odd?" Oito asks.

"Yes, but he's definitely odder than normal right now," Shizuku declares.

Phinks curls his fist, ready to deck the clown. And maybe earn the queen's admiration.

"Hisoka, back off." Machi staggers out of the woods, her own fists clenched.

She looks terrible – pale, shaky, and infuriated. Franklin looks to her in alarm.

Melody clucks her tongue, and Kurapika looks at her sharply.

Illumi, of all people, seems to recognize the issue, whatever it is. "Hisoka, you should stop."

"What's going on?" Phinks demands.

"Did you hurt Machi?" Nobunaga grabs his sword.

"I can handle myself!" Machi shoots back.

"Then, Machi, don't you have something to share with the fam?" Hisoka chortles.

"Fuck  _entirely_  off." Machi points her finger at him. "Ha. In case you're unaware, you're  _not_  part of the family."

Chrollo notes that Machi looks nervous. This is most unusual. With a flash of concern, he opens his mouth, but Hisoka, of course, interrupts.

"I just wanted to say congratulations, daddy!" Hisoka dives once more towards Feitan to capture him in a strangling embrace.

Kurapika starts. So that's why Melody heard thirteen heartbeats. The rest of the Troupe, however, just look confused. Even Chrollo's brow furrows.

Except Feitan. Feitan, for once, does not fight Hisoka off. In fact, he's rather limp as a ragdoll, being shaken back and forth by the evil clown.

"Machi?" he croaks. Or tries to. Only wordless air exits his mouth.

Machi's face is as pink as her hair. "Hisoka – I'm going to kill you!"

"Won't change the fact that you're growing a human." Hisoka kisses the top of Feitan's head.

The group is silent for a minute as they finally realize what Hisoka implies.

"What the fuck?!" Nobunaga shrieks.

"Your girlfriend was  _Machi_?!" Phinks hollers.

Bonolenov utters a Gyudondond swear.

Chrollo looks to Kurapika, then to Machi, then to Feitan, then back to Kurapika. For once in his life, he is completely stunned.

"Machi, are you okay?" Franklin springs to her side.

"Stress isn't good for you." Illumi hurries over to sit her down.

"I'm not fragile!" She shoves Illumi back. "Leave me alone, both – no, all – of you!"

Kalluto feels tears choke his vision. His parents…are going to start their own family? They're going to forget him?

"Wait, does that mean Machi and Feitan…" Gon says slowly.

"Yes," Killua says, silencing Gon as quickly as possible, and cuing another laugh from Hisoka.

"I don't understand," Phinks moans, head in his hands. "We taught you  _moves_ , Feitan."

"Well, no, I understand it more than Danchou and the Chain Brat," Nobunaga says, tapping his chin. "They always did have a spark."

"Since when?" Phinks cries.

"Feitan, are you just going to stand there?" Leorio demands.

Chrollo sends Feitan his most intimidating glare before standing and walking over to Machi. "Franklin's right. Are you okay?"

Machi hangs her head as Chrollo tilts her head up. He smiles gently. "I'm not angry, Machi, Feitan. I'm happy for you."

"Really?" There are tears in her eyes.

Chrollo nods. He squats beside her and takes her in a hug. "We've dealt with many changes before. We'll deal with this, too. We'll support you however you need."

"Anti-nausea medicine would be a start," she says begrudgingly. But her arms tighten around Chrollo's waist, because Machi is honestly grateful.

Watching their embrace, Kurapika feels a wave of shame. Because he knows that now, now, there is no way he can ever change his mind, ever return to his goal of killing the entire Troupe.

He can't kill a mother. He won't. He can't go back.

And with his loss, he feels relief, alongside memories.

In the Kurta Tribe, Kurapika was only five when his teenage neighbor was impregnated by an outsider boy. Everyone shunned her, and Kurapika never understood why. Chrollo's response is everything Kurapika had wished he had possessed the power to do for her back then. And in this moment, even if it's just one moment, the Troupe is more humane than his clan.

It's just one moment. One, in a sea of opposites. But Kurapika is loathe to say it doesn't matter.

"Doctors, do you have anything for morning sickness?" Chrollo nods to Leorio and Cheadle.

"Uh, we didn't bring medicine," Cheadle says. "But I'll look for plants we can find."

Chrollo smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Cheadle." He slides his eyes pointedly to Kurapika, then to Feitan.

Kurapika shakes off his guilt. Ah. He hopes he understands what Chrollo is telling him to do. Either way, he's doing it.  _In_ , activated. Chains, activated.

Feitan gasps as he finds a chain squeezing him tighter and tighter. "Jesus!"

"You need Him," Chrollo says dryly, stepping to Machi's side.

"You all do," Kurapika says. Although he, a fellow murderer, might too. He drags Feitan closer to Machi.

She looks up with eyes as pink and swollen as her hair. "Hey."

"You're okay?" Feitan whispers.

"I will be."

"I'm really…" Feitan throws Kurapika a frown.

Kurapika dutifully releases Feitan from Chain Jail. His hands flail about to grasp Chrollo's.

Chrollo's eyes widen slightly. So Kurapika approves of his actions. He could get used to this.

Feitan, shakily – to his fellow members' amazement – reaches out towards Machi. "I'm sorry."

"Anyone recording this?" Phinks snorts. He is immediately chastened by Oito's firm look.

"Me too." Machi laughs weakly. "But I kinda…I think we do good together. Like you said, we're practically a family already."

Kalluto starts. Machi is looking at him. Like he's how he feels. Like he's their kid.

"We can be a family of four, then." Feitan holds out a hand to Kalluto.

"We're not gonna forget you, brat," Machi says.

Kalluto sticks his tongue out at Illumi before racing over to dive in Machi's arms. Feitan pats his head and kisses Machi's nose.

As Illumi feels emptier and emptier, and Killua lost and more lost, Kalluto finds himself finally at home.

And despite their own struggles, despite the boat heading towards shore they are too distracted to notice, both his siblings feel it too.


	23. Interception and Interlude

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Interception and Interlude**

_**Content note: discussion of sexual assault.** _

A delicate breeze bristles across the ocean. Rays of gently press their fingers along the sand. And a body stabbed straight through the heart sends blood trickling into this otherwise serene scene.

The Phantom Troupe and their cohort, however, are too busy talking about Machi's pregnancy to notice.

Woble, however, suddenly cackles. She peers behind her mother.

"What?" Oito spins around to see nothing – only to be thrown into a tree.

"Your Majesty!" Phinks and Kurapika dive forward. Kurapika catches Woble before she tumbles to the ground, and Phinks holds the queen, who bleeds from a wound on her forehead.

"She's breathing," he says quickly, placing his large fingers against her nostrils.

"What happened?" Leorio cries.

Kurapika looks sharply at Chrollo. "An invisible creature."

"A Guardian Beast," Chrollo says, motioning for the Troupe to stay put.

Because Melody's face is horrified. She can now hear heartbeats closing in on them. Dozens of heartbeats, in fact. She pats her own heart as the snapping of twigs and bristles of branches grow nearer.

"Guardians can't attack their Princes. They must have been ordered after her mother instead," Beyond says.

Kurapika hisses as he wraps his arms tighter around the sniffling Woble. Both he and Phinks are on their knees, towards the edge of their group. To make any sudden movements could spell their death.

"Don't move," he mutters to Phinks, who regards him with surprise.

"Why can't we see it?" Nobunaga draws his sword.

"Nobunaga!" Chollo says sharply.

"Calm yourselves, and I shan't murder any of you," says a gravelly voice.

The hulking figure of Prince Benjamin, the notoriously violent and ill-tempered firstborn son of King Nasubi, emerges from the forest. He stands over Kurapika, who finds himself wishing once more to expand Chain Jail beyond the Troupe.

Why, oh why, did he place such a restriction on a goal he doesn't even want to accomplish any more?

"Don't touch the prince!" Phinks shoots Kurapika a frantic look. Woble is just a baby, after all.

To his relief, the Chain Bastard leans over Woble, protecting her with his own body.

"If you wished to negotiate, Benjamin, perhaps you should not have started by hurting one in our protection," Chrollo says icily. He's not one for the formalities of titles when this man has just placed Phinks and Kurapika in a vulnerable position.

"It was a precaution. I'm here to declare I know you had nothing to do with our ship's troubles," says Benjamin smugly.

"That's nice," Feitan replies, inching in front of Machi, who glowers at him.

She can defend herself, dammit. She's not crippled.

"Though, Beyond, I'm not surprised to see you in the thick of chaos." The prince laughs, but Beyond remains sober.

Beyond clears his throat. "Let us through, Benjamin. We are on a rescue mission, nothing more."

"You'll soon  _need_  to be rescued. Prince Halkenburg is about to lead a hundred or more soldiers to sweep the continent for you." Benjamin points to Oito. "No matter what that whore thinks, it's better if Woble returns to the ship than be found with the troupe."

"Halkenburg? That goody-two-shoes is coming to kill us?" Hisoka scoffs. "Unlikely."

"Don't call the Queen a whore," Kurapika growls, and Phinks finds himself grateful for the second time in a minute.

"Good or not, he's an ally of his brother. They share a mother. They can't help it." Benjamin shrugs.

Illumi blanches. Well, he knows it can be helped. Killua could help it if he were the one in danger. He taught Killua to leave him if necessary, even though he knows he couldn't leave Killua if the tables turned.

"I think you're lying," Killua says, filling in Illumi's own words before he can speak.

Illumi's heart rises. Killua – he's as sharp as ever. Is there hope for him?

"Perhaps you're not aware, but we're one family of assassins, another family of thieves, and another of hunters." Kalluto glares at him. "Did you really think we would not notice your guards sneaking up on us?"

"You're smart." Benjamin's eyes glint.

Killua muffles a scream. They're delayed again. Alluka could be gone forever. She could already be dead.

No, no, that's his training, to expect the worst –

Chrollo counts silently in his head. The three Zoldycks must escape, and Machi. Hisoka and Feitan should accompany them. Kurapika and Woble, and, given Machi's condition and the mysteries of the continent, at least one doctor.

"Do you know what the numbers one, five, seven, eight, and ten mean?" Chrollo muses.

Melody doesn't, but she hears the heartbeats of five Spiders begin to accelerate. Cheadle eyes the leader, and Kurapika seems to suspect something.

"Numbers an infant could count?" asks Benjamin.

"They stay around. Dogs run off even with chains and princes, clowns run after their kids, but those numbers don't," Chrollo says seriously.

Kurapika catches his breath. Across the gathering, he sees Cheadle poised to move, though Leorio just looks baffled. Franklin tenses his arms, just slightly.

"What fresh nonsense are you talking about?"

"Merely deciding the people who will and will not kill you," Chrollo says, his voice smooth as silk.

Kurapika springs to his feet, Woble tight in his arms, as Franklin opens fire.

"Move!" Killua grabs Gon and dashes into the forest. Nobunaga slashes the man blocking their path.

"Keep going, kids!" He whirls in a circle, decapitating three guards at once.

"But – people –" Gon hesitates.

"Gon, we don't have time to question!" Killua drags his friend forward as Kurapika races towards them.

Beyond hurls Cheadle towards the four youths; Machi and Feitan knock more guards down. "Let's go."

Bonolenov whirls around Benjamin, as Phinks knocks down man after man who would dare approach the unconscious queen.

"Danchou, go," Phinks hollers.

Chrollo turns around in surprise as he wraps another man in Fun Fun Cloth.

"Make sure that bastard keeps the  _best_  prince alive!" Phinks breaks another neck, and turns around to see a horrific sight.

Beyond the shrubs, on the beach, lies Prince Halkenburg's lifeless body.

 _They really are here to kill us._  Chrollo inhales sharply _. The spider must survive._

"Your own brother?!" Bonolenov shakes his head.

"I didn't hate him," says Benjamin, watching Bonolenov with amusement. "It was politics. It's Tserriednich I hate."

"So you'd use our capture to gain favor until you could usurp the throne?" Leorio calls. His remote punch sends another guard flying. "All of you royals – you are more fucked up than the orphans and assassins and abandoned children we all are!"

"Not bad, nerd," Franklin says, standing cover around him.

Shizuku slams Blinky atop the head of a woman who stabs wildly at Melody. Funny, isn't it, that she killed Melody's fellow bodyguards in Yorknew, and now she is defending her. Life is weird like that.

But still, there are many guards, almost too many.

"There's nowhere to run," Benjamin says.

"We aren't planning on it." Nobunaga grins. Danchou has managed to get away during Benjamin's distraction, leaving the five Troupe members, Beyond, Melody, Leorio, and Oito.

"Indeed." Franklin snorts.

Beyond, however, has other plans. He's not about to watch either the Kakin guards or these talented thieves slaughtered.

A single punch sends Leorio flying into Franklin. Both tumble to the ground, as helpless as Oito. "We surrender."

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Cheadle complains once they're certain they've put enough distance between them and the guards. "We're venturing into the Dark Continent to face a Calamity with half of us as kids!"

"Zoldycks aren't ordinary children," Illumi says, glancing around them. All he sees is green leaves and vines, the sort he's never seen before.

Woble whimpers.

"Keep the kid quiet, Kurapika. Please." Chrollo swallows from his position at the front. He trusts his Troupe to prevail; but he also trusted Uvogin to prevail against Kurapika. He trusted Hisoka to never betray the Spider in Yorknew.

Does he trust too much? He, a thief?

"You could always hand her to Machi and Feitan for practice, should you get tired," Hisoka suggests.

"I hate you." Machi's arms are crossed. She's dehydrated and dizzy, so she can only hope a stream or river lies ahead. And soon.

Feitan holds onto her arm to steady her.

"We left Leorio." Gon licks his lips.

"He would want us to go," Killua declares. He can't – he can't regret this right now.

"If my intern is hurt, I will personally hunt all of you down. I might not be strong, but I'm crafty," Cheadle adds.

Gon nods fervently. He's still mad he had to rely on the Phantom Troupe's murderous skills. "I might not have Nen anymore, but I'll join you."

"You don't?" Machi gapes at him.

"Nobunaga be devastated," Feitan says dryly.

Killua bites the inside of his cheeks. He needs – he needs everyone to survive. Including Alluka. He can't lose her.

"You'll recover it. Somehow." Chrollo glances towards Gon.

"How?"

"I don't know. I just think you will." Chrollo offers him a brief smile. When he turns his head back, he catches Kurapika looking at him with gratitude.

* * *

By nightfall, they have yet to reach the den of Ai. Or whatever it is. Village, Kurapika calls it. Hoarde, says Machi. Origin, says Cheadle.

However, they have finally encountered a clearing with a wide stream. Machi falls to her knees, gulping it up.

"Killua, you know we have to sleep soon," Gon says, kneeling besides Kurapika.

Killua's throat is scratchy from thirst. For the first time, he realizes Gon is worried because he sees himself in him.

"I do," he says slowly.

"We should sleep near the stream, but not beside it. We're too open here," Kurapika says, cupping his hand to give a very cranky Woble a drink.

"Animals will probably approach it at night. Whoever guards should also be responsible for hunting food," Cheadle says as her stomach growls. She prefers vegetarianism, but they're in a bit of a desperate situation.

"I'll take the first shift," Illumi says, his eyes raking Killua for approval.

None is given.

"Me too!" Hisoka announces brightly.

Illumi, however, is focused on Killua. He's desperate for any sign of acknowledgment.

Instead, as their party retires to the edge of the clearing, Killua slips his hand in Gon's.

Kurapika pulls off his tunic to wrap around Woble and Chrollo, in turn, wraps his coat around his lover.

Kurapika scowls and pulls the coat off. "We'll share. We'll just have to lie close."

He blushes when he realizes what he's said. Chrollo bats his eyelashes, but out of respect for their fellow companions, only delivers Kurapika a kiss on his cheek.

Kalluto snuggles between Machi and Feitan. Gon and Killua lie side-by-side, still holding hands.

Chrollo points subtly towards them.

Kurapika elbows him, but he too wears a smile.

Cheadle rests her head on a mossy root and within seconds begins to snore.

* * *

Back in the clearing, Hisoka kisses Illumi's neck. "Now we're finally alone."

"Not now," says Illumi, stunned that Hisoka would think of sex at a time like this.

"Look, Illumi," Hisoka says, deciding now is the time. At any rate, Illumi won't be sleepy with this conversation. He withdraws his hug with a sigh. "I saw your texts."

"I messaged the wrong person," Illumi says, looking back towards the trees that hide Killua from his view.

"You can't handle alcohol well, despite your training?" Hisoka raises an eyebrow.

"It wasn't alcohol. To be honest, I didn't care enough to check whom I texted." Illumi squints up at the stars, which seem so much brighter here. "Don't you ever just want to die?"

"No. I think it sounds boring." Hisoka winks. "And I would know, I suppose."

"True," Illumi acknowledges. He pauses. "That prince killed his own brother."

"I imagine," Hisoka says slowly, "he did not think of him as a brother."

Illumi opens his mouth, not missing the point.  _Alluka. He's done the same_.

Hisoka pushes Illumi's chin shut.

"When you betrayed the Troupe, how did you live with yourself?"  
"I never wasn't betraying them, remember." Hisoka boops Illumi's nose. "Trust and loyalty are more fun when they're not absolute. Like, you know, with you."

"You trust me?" Illumi has been disloyal to his family. He's unworthy.  
"We're married, aren't we?" Hisoka chortles as he stops to sip the water again. "Ah, this is good."

Illumi taps his foot to exorcise his thoughts. "Then why did you marry me?"

"Because you're damn sexy." Hisoka laughs to cover his next sentence. "And we understand each other."

"We always have, haven't we?" Illumi says.

"And yet, you don't need  _me_  to love you," Hisoka says, citing his earlier text.

Illumi hardly recognizes the words that leave his mouth. "Do you?"

Has anyone, ever, told him that they love him?

lllumi is promptly drenched. "Did you just use your bungee gum to splash me?"

Hisoka smirks. "You're sexier wet."

And he's rather not answer that question yet. Hisoka, too, is guarded, despite his antics.

Illumi pouts for a moment before heaving water Hisoka's way. As expected, his husband dodges, and Illumi seizes the opportunity, like the flawless assassin he is, to dive in for a kiss.

Hisoka chokes, and not just because water comes out his nose.

Illumi pushes Hisoka underwater, until he rests on the shallow sand. He keeps his eyes open – he's always found the sting of water on his eyes pleasant for pain – and keeps his lips pressed against Hisoka.

Hisoka grins through their kiss. Illumi floats over him. His raven hair surrounds his head like an exceptionally large demon halo that blocks out the sunlight.

Hisoka finally loses the fight for oxygen, and bubbles soar upwards. Illumi thrusts him above the surface.

"This must be what resurrection feels like," Hisoka cracks. His immaculately gelled hair falls loose around his forehead, and Illumi brushes back every strand, every drop of water that could invade his golden eyes.

"Come here." Hisoka wiggles his hips against Illumi's very-obviously aroused trousers. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?"

"You could have had me anytime," Illumi reminds him.

"But the delay was so fun," Hisoka teases. He lifts Illumi out of the water and lays him on the muddy shore. It will be messy and undignified, just as he likes it. They'll have to be quiet, and then they can say they've achieved something Kurapika and Chrollo failed just the night before.

Illumi pulls at Hisoka's pants.

"How eager." Hisoka licks his lips. "I want to savor this, husband."

"I like that word," Illumi admits.

"Good. Get used to it,  _husband_." Hisoka whispers. "Though the thrill of fornication shall be missed."

And then he and Illumi are spread over each other, their every moist breath shared, their every squeeze and tug shared.

But when Illumi pushes Hisoka further, he notices a glaze on his husband's eyes.

Illumi wonders if this is how Needlemen feel. He's upwards, facing a clown he adores, not suffocating against a bedspread. But he feels as though his brain has been hijacked by memories, and he's slowly losing his grip, even though he desperately wants to remain here, in this moment with Hisoka.

"Jesus," Hisoka curses. He frees himself from Illumi.

"What's wrong?" Illumi asks.

"What's wrong with me? No, what's wrong with you? You're somewhere else." Hisoka sits up. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, though pain is nothing," Illumi reminds him. "I just haven't done this in a while. We can continue whenever you like."

Hisoka looks wary. "Memories?"

"Yes, I suppose it's natural, isn't it?" Illumi shrugs.

"What happened with your first time?" Hisoka asks quietly.

Illumi stares up at his husband, the man he should trust, but his body won't let him. His eyes look wide and innocent, and a little afraid.

"Illumi, it's okay." Hisoka nuzzles his forehead. "I won't judge you."

"He was a member of the mafia. I'd killed quite a few by then." Illumi rolls over on his side, away from Hisoka's face, but he forces himself to keep speaking. "I didn't know it would be different."

He recalls the man's cold fingers on his neck, combing through his short hair. No, those are Hisoka's fingers now, warm and calloused and gentle. "He said I was pretty, almost like a doll."

"I had been instructed to kill him in his room. So I let him lead me there." Illumi closes his eyes. "He asked me if I was a virgin."

His shoulders tighten. He can't…he can't tell the rest. How the man pushed him face-down on the bed which smelled like mothballs, dug into him like he was a prize to be pierced and torn in two, how there was blood and Illumi panicked not because he was being raped, but because there he'd finally lost blood on a mission and he never had before.

"I let him until he was done. Vulnerable then." Panting like a pig, still lying inside him. "It was part of the mission, I think. I let him. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't rape or anything."

"Yes, it was." Hisoka sits up. He feels ill.

"No, of course not." Illumi had limped home to his parents' and Zeno's prying expressions. Father had come into his room later.

 _Do you know why we had you do this_?

"I know why they did it. So sex couldn't be used as a weapon against me. It was for my own good. They did it to Milluki, too, a few years later."

"Your parents had someone rape you?" Hisoka spits. His eyes burn yellow fire.

"It wasn't rape." Illumi turns back to him. His eyes are even wider than normal. "It wasn't."

"Illumi." Hisoka is livid. He would like to kill the Zoldyck parents. Slowly. Painfully. Flay their flesh. Hire Chrollo's Indoor Fish. "Parents are supposed to  _care_  about their offspring."

_Do you know why we had you do this?_

_No_ ,  _Father_ , Illumi admits at last. He doesn't know.

"They did it because they cared." His voice sounds hollow. He isn't sure he believes it anymore. But to choose his own will over his parents – he'd be a failure – and he'd have been raped. And Illumi, the dangerous Zoldyck assassin, doesn't want to have been raped.

"Illumi, you can tell me that all you want, but your body's response betrays the truth." Hisoka shakes his head. "It wasn't your fault."

"I chose it!" Illumi's voice trembles. "Forget I told you, please."

"Sure, and what will happen if we have sex again? You'll space out again and see me as the man who  _raped_  you?" Hisoka crosses his arms. "Now he understands why Illumi responded violently when he asked if he could do Killua. Granted, he'd been trying to provoke Illumi to save Gon, but he hadn't expected that severe a response. "Sex should be fun, Illumi. I  _hate_  your parents for taking that from you."

"You can't hate them!" Illumi looks apoplectic. "Please."

Hisoka has always wondered what heartbreak feels like. Well, now he might just know. It hurts worse than death, and he would know.

Hisoka wraps his arms around his husband.

"Are you crying?" Illumi catches his breath.

"You won't. One of us has to." Hisoka breathes in his husband's ear. He wants to drown out the noise between his ears, insisting that he's the worst hypocrite. Because he wants Illumi to face the truth internally, but he can't speak his own truth externally.

"Do you think it would help to do me?" Hisoka asks instead. He grants Illumi a toothy grin.

"Mmm? I thought you liked control," Illumi says.

"We both know that you've never surrendered control to me," Hisoka teases.

Illumi looks astounded, but he nods. Hisoka pulls him closer, and he smirks at Illumi's growing hardness.

"God, you're magnificent." Hisoka's fingernails dig into Illumi's back. He moans as Illumi joins their bodies. "You know you're the only one I'd ever let do this, right?"

"Well," Illumi grunts, looking partially excited and partially terrified, "I am your husband, so I would hope so."

Hisoka laughs, and to his delight, Illumi changes to look like himself. Perhaps even more than himself. He looks happy, and excited, and eager, as his hips grind against Hisoka.

"God, you are so sexy," Hisoka says. "You could kill with looks alone."

"That's not my nen power," Illumi says. He stops. "Oh. You were complimenting me."

"Yeah," Hisoka says with a little laugh.

Illumi bends over to kiss him fiercely before resuming.

When they're both reduced to tangled limbs and free souls caught in each others' arms, Hisoka decides to break the contentment. As he always does.

"Illumi." Hisoka holds his husband. "I was wrong."

"Say that again."

"I was wrong." Hisoka makes a sour face before dropping his eyes. "I…about your first time."

"I don't want to talk about it." Illumi is happy right now. He wants to stay happy.

"I need to." Hisoka clenches his fists, and a real tear shimmers above that teal teardrop on his cheek. "Because  _I went through the same thing_."

Illumi is awash in shock. "What?"

Hisoka? Hisoka, with his impressive physique, with his massive strength? Hisoka, with his ravenous sexuality and irrepressible sadism? Hisoka?

"I was rather neglected as a child. The opposite of you, as it were." So he ran with the streets, snuck into circuses, stole candy and paid it back with coins from the card tricks he learned.

So he followed the illusionist, his only adult friend, into the back of the bar, all of seven.

All he'd really wanted was candy.

And he'd gone back, over and over, to learn more, to buy himself candy and magic tricks as consolation. It hurt, but it kind of felt good at times, too, and at least there was something to swallow even if it didn't taste pleasant.

Hisoka's face is as red as his hair. He hadn't even known. He'd thought he was in love and going to marry the man twenty years his senior.

"Hisoka." Illumi's bloodlust explodes. " _Where is he_?"

"You don't think I let him live, do you?" Hisoka laughs uneasily.

Illumi doesn't back down. "I know you did."

Hisoka bows his head. "That man supported my mother. I…left rather than tell her. I let her keep her illusions. My one act of kindness towards her, for the zero kindnesses she gave to me. "

Illumi grabs Hisoka and jerks him to his chest.

"Is this your idea of a hug?" Hisoka asks dryly.

"Well," says Illumi thickly, "now that we've made love, we might as well hug."


	24. The Bells of Hell

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**The Bells of Hell**

"She's waking up," Melody announces.

The eight allies have been escorted past irate onlookers and hoarded into a tiny cell. The cell room remains damp and salty after its near-submergence not two full days ago.

All, excepting the 'harmless' Melody and the unconscious Oito, have been put in Zetsu. Although if Melody had to guess, she's been allowed her ability so that she can keep them all anxious anytime footsteps approach.

Leorio woke up hours ago and was promptly place in Zetsu himself, but Oito has remained unconscious until nearly dawn, though Melody reassured them that her heart was strong.

"Queen," Phinks says softly. Well, as softly as he can manage.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Leorio leans in front of the blinking lady.

"Mmm? Four." Oito sits up, though her face turns green from the motion. "Where is Woble?!"

"She's okay," Phinks assures as quickly as possible.

"She wasn't captured," says Leorio.

"Kurapika took her." Melody holds Oito's hand as the queen's chest heaves with tears.

"They escaped into the jungle," adds Franklin.

"And the others?"

"They all escaped." Bonolenov sighs, glancing out their cell. The guards glare back at them.

"We could have, too, had Beyond Netero not betrayed us all." Phinks scowls.

"I don't consider it betrayal. For one, he isn't a spider. For two, he likely intended to keep as many people alive as possible. We can't all die before we investigate the Dark Continent," says Shizuku.

"And yet we'll be executed," Nobunaga says.

"Please." Phinks rolls his eyes. "These cells can't hold us."

"No, but a well-armed ship should deter you," Melody replies, pointing to the guards.

"Class A Bounties, a doctor, a bodyguard…we can all be valued as hostages. What of the queen?" Nobunaga snaps.

"Don't say that," Phinks growls.

"I'm well aware of my predicament, gentlemen," Oito says evenly. "It's the predicament of every queen in Kakin."

"It shouldn't be," says Phinks, wondering when he became such an idealist.

Oito half-smiles at him. "It won't be for long, either."

"Oh?"

"I've a plan." Oito knows the laws of Kakin better than anyone here. She, the mere eighth wife, who has always been powerless, might just be able to usurp Tserriednich's plan.

"Before you start that plan, you should incorporate that we've been charged with killing Halkenburg, as well," says Franklin.

Oito claps her hand to her mouth. Tserriednich's only close brother? The brother who would spare Woble if he won the contest? He's gone?!

"I don't mind being charged for killing many people," Phinks agrees, "because it's usually true."

Oito glares at him, and he finds himself avoiding her eyes.

He finds himself…almost wishing that weren't the truth.

Oito seethes. If they killed Halkenburg – if they endangered Woble any further – she'll – she'll –

"But not this one. This time, I swear we didn't do it." Phinks looks through the cell bars.

* * *

Dawn comes with a flurry of moths and a hazy mist that slowly roams through the jungle. Chrollo awakens to find Kurapika's fingers combing his hair. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He'd like to lie here in relative peace for a few more minutes.

But Kurapika, that ever-observant bastard, tries to tickle his neck.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm not ticklish," Chrollo says wryly.

"Oh." Kurapika's cheeks turn pink. "Well, I just wanted to say – I'm really glad you came with us. And I'll do everything I can to get your friends back."

"I know," Chrollo says, unable to resist his smile. "You know, you're responsible for engineering our escape."

"Me?"

"Do you recall how you sent Leorio into the hotel lobby to deliver coded speech to Gon and Killua? He made such a ruckus on the phone that Shizuku offered to kill him." Chrollo laughs softly.

"You're stealing my coded techniques now?" Kurapika keeps a straight face, but his jaw twitched.

"And lowering your guard." Chrollo's fingers fly up to Kurapika's neck.

Kurapika shrieks loud enough to awaken their sleeping friends and send Kalluto and Feitan – the current guards – rushing towards them.

Kurapika cowers at the base of a tree, clutching his neck.

"I was not expecting such an obvious weakness," Chrollo says in amazement. "God, all Pakunoda should have done was tickle you."

Kurapika laughs, but there's a shadow that crosses his face. As if he wishes he had not hurt Pakunoda.

Chrollo wants to ask him, and he can tell from Feitan and Machi's sour expressions they feel likewise. But now is not the time.

* * *

"Well, well, well." Tserriednich crosses his arms as he leers at the eight bruised people crowded into a cell meant for one. The cell that used to house him. He thought it fitting.

"Is that your stereotypical villain opener?" Phinks asks. Nobunaga jabs a finger into him.

"I don't speak to trash." Tserriednich smirks at Phinks. Most of the people here are brutes who live for killing and theft, without thinking of the consequences. He has no patience for them.

Leorio and the quiet Melody, however, interest him. Not just because Mizaistom has been incessantly insisting that the Boar could not have helped the Troupe. But they seem more intellectual than the dregs of Meteor City.

And then there's Oito. His target.

"Where's your brat?"

"Away from you," Oito replies, biting off every word.

"With people who killed her half-brother? My full brother?" Tserriednich snorts.

"Your antipathy to Benjamin is well-known. You know full well Halkenburg wasn't killed by the Spiders," Oito says.

"Do I?" Tserriednich hates to admit it, but he was relieved to hear of Halkenburg's death. He wouldn't much relish killing someone so obviously devoted to morals. The rest of his siblings will be  _experiences_. He'll get to know them through their murder. But he already knew Halkenburg. Everyone did.

"He's strong, but Benjamin's methods are obvious to everyone in this room. Unfortunately for you, Prince Tserriednich, his supporters are now numerous after his daring capture of the infamous Phantom Troupe." Oito cocks her head. "Take care, lest you have an uprising on your hand."

"And I suppose you're volunteering your services for freedom?" Tserriednich leans close to the jail. "Too bad for all of you, I prefer to murder all by myself."

"We'd never help you anyways," Leorio finally fumes.

"You're disappointing me." Tserriednich chuckles. "You don't want to do that."

"You've always been cruel and capricious, but never ignorant, Tserriednich." Oito interrupts with a sly smile.

What does she want?

She wants to know Tserriednich's plan.

Oito hopes her rudimentary nen will be enough.  _Come on, tell me_.

"It's best to put anxious mothers out of their misery," Tserriednich replies sweetly.

There! She's certain she felt something there. Something more than a hunch. She's manipulated him into her plot.

"I see." And she does.

When the prince pads away, Oito spins to face the Troupe. "Anxious mothers. His next target is Sevanti's second child. Prince Marayam. I – I just know it."

She doesn't want to call it nen, lest she be wrong. After all, she's a novice. But – if she could just convince people into telling her their plans – that's all the manipulation she needs.

* * *

The two small rabbits caught during the night were not enough for eight people trudging through increasingly muddy and swampy terrain. But, though they are all hungry, they press forward, following Kurapika's dousing chain, praying they aren't too late for Alluka.

"Do you smell that?" Gon pinches his nose.

"Smells like blood." Hisoka glances around the trees.

Machi's stomach heaves again, and she bitterly accepts Feitan's arms around her. Kalluto pats her head, resurrecting a smile from her otherwise miserable body.

A dim, tinkling noise from above is the first sign that something is wrong.

"What's that?" Cheadle asks softly.

Chrollo waves for her to keep quiet.

"Machi!" Feitan shoves her away from the blur hurtling towards them. And Kalluto shouts.

"Kalluto!" Killua gasps at his little brother, who is now wrapped tight by a purple snake as thick as a tree trunk.

"Where did it come from?" Hisoka swears.

Kalluto can't move his arms to use his Serpent's Bite. Illumi and Killua could win, but not him.

"Don't panic," Illumi tells him, his face returned to its emotionless mask.

But panic takes over as the snake sinks its fangs into Kalluto's neck. He gags up blood.

Gon tries to rush forward, but Killua shoves him away.

"There's two tails," Kurapika whispers.

"What does that mean?" Machi demands. Seeing her kid in that monster's grip is killing her. And – if she wasn't pregnant, Feitan would have pushed Kalluto away instead of her. And she would have been fast enough to help Kalluto. No, no, fuck!

"Hell-bell," Cheadle says, tensing.

"The murder snake?" Feitan is going to murder  _it_ , thank you very much.

"Machi, can you stitch his wounds quick once we release him?" Chrollo asks, stepping closer to the snake. It's eyes fixate on him, though its jaw remains around Kalluto's neck.

"I will," she vows.

"Hisoka, you fuckhead!" Killua yells as Hisoka uses his bungee gum to send the snake torqueing into the air. "Chrollo had a plan!"

"That's why I did it," Hisoka says with a laugh he doesn't feel, even though that wasn't his idea, even though all he could think of was keeping Illumi from suffering another tragedy.

He  _really_  doesn't want to have endangered Illumi's kid brother. He'd like to fuck him again.

Machi snatches Kalluto with her stitches as Feitan presses his fingers over the gaping holes in his neck.

Kalluto sucks in oxygen. He feels like he's choking on his own blood, and he's weak – but he'll show them, he'll kill them all.

"Hang on, kid," Feitan snaps.

Illumi knows Zoldycks are immune to poison, but Dark Continent venom? Venom that will convince his skilled assassin brother to kill those he cares about? He shoves Machi aside. "You need to be careful."

"He wouldn't hurt me," Machi yells back, grabbing for Kalluto's neck.

"I don't know anything," Illumi says, utterly lost. He couldn't protect him. "Feitan, I'm the one strong enough to stop Kalluto if the venom works. I trained him."

But Feitan can't respond.

"Feitan!" Gon screams as the smaller man is knocked back on his feet. The jaws snap shut, scraping his chin but for now, drawing no blood.

Chrollo ignites his hands, but Gon, naturally, has already followed Hisoka into blind action.

Gon leaps forward, and Hell-Bell turns to him. Killua barely electrifies it in time, and it falls back with a hiss.

Kurapika shakes as he draws out his chains.

"Don't," Chrollo shouts. Instead of lunging for the snake, instead of using his nen to explode it, he lunges for Kurapika.

The snake soars towards him as Kurapika releases his Chain Jail. But he's mistimed it – Chrollo falls in its path instead of Hell-Bell.

Kurapika screams at the top of his lungs. He's trapped Chrollo – because that idiot wouldn't let him sacrifice himself – the jaws of the snake snap towards his lover.

Chrollo is going to become everything Kurapika assumed he was: murderous and boring.

At least, Chrollo tells himself, Kurapika will keep living. Someday he might see a difference between his actions before and after Hell-Bell, and remember him with incomplete hatred.

"No!" Kurapika screams again.

And on Chrollo's face, all he sees is awe at this mesmerizing creature, even in the face of death. The face of one who would not die with regret, despite the pain he's caused.

 _Ai_.

A gaseous cloud suddenly shakes the Hell-Bell. Its entire body sinks to the earth, as if crushed into a million pieces.

"Nanika?!" Killua cries.

"Well shit," Hisoka says, standing before Illumi, who cradles Kalluto in his arms.

Kurapika surveys the forest. Hundreds of gaseous creatures emerge from behind trees, twigs, stones on the ground. The sound of their voice grows beyond what his ears can tolerate.

_Ai._

_Ai._

_Ai._

* * *

"You broke your promise." Swinko-Swinko stands before the jail cell. She can't explain what motivated her to confront Oito, but here she is. "I should have expect no better from the eighth wife. You've been nothing but a headache since Nasubi fell for you."

"Hey! Seems to me she's the best mother here of all of you," Phinks replies curtly.

"Swinko-Swinko cares more than she shows," Oito informs him. "Which is why we can trust her."

"You're joking."

"You're joking to yourself if you think Halkenburg was killed by anyone other than Benjamin. He's as dangerous as Tserriednich. Our best chance is to play them off each other, and you know that!" Oito reaches through the cell.

The second her hand contacts Swinko-Swinko, the older woman gasps. She feels exactly why she came here.

Oito, somehow, has learned nen. Now, this could be useful information, regardless of what the fifth queen decides.

"I always did think you were manipulative," Swinko-swinko says at last.

"Marayam is his next target. Convince Sevanti to help us," Oito insists.

"And if she won't listen, Marayam's bodyguards are Biscuit Krueger and Hanzo. I know them. Tell them Leorio Paladinight agrees, if they're hesitant," adds Leorio.

Swinko-swinko ignores the young man and keeps her gaze on Oito. "Why would a proper queen like Sevanti break tradition?"

"For the same reason we both have." Oito's brow wrinkles.

Phinks stiffens. For the same reason Nobunaga, Shizuku, Machi and Paku rescued Danchou. Even though it cost Paku her life.

"Love," Phinks says at the same time as Oito.

* * *

When Kurapika awakens, he discovers that and the others have been walking together, though asleep, through the jungle.

Chains of gas wrap around their wrists, and seven of them march in a line. Kalluto is carried, though from the look on his face, he might murder all of them. Kurapika is honestly unsure if his bloodlust is the result of Hell-bell's venom or preteen angst.

A river teeming with rainbowed fish sparkles in the midday sun. And in the forest on the other side, low-lying clouds obscure the trees.

But they're not just clouds. In fact, if Kurapika uses his imagination, he discerns the vague outlines of translucent buildings. The tree limbs wind up each house like stairs, and leafy branches form beds and cushions.

A village of gas.

And in the center, on a fountain that flows earth instead of water, sits a not-quite-human child.

"Alluka!" Killua cries.

The Zoldyck girl's eyes alight at the sight of them. "Killua!"

"I told you I'd find you," Killua says as the Ai escorts shove them further into the city.

The sun disappears behind a cloud, and Gon gasps. They can no longer see the forest surrounding them. Instead, they've been swallowed into the village of gas, where homes of clouds are starkly clear, and the black orbs of Ai watch them with suspicion.

"Ai," says Alluka, transforming into Nanika. She gestures towards Kalluto.

"He's lucky our parents used venom on him." She places her hands against his forehead, and the malice begins to fade from his eyes.

"Can anyone call that lucky?" Hisoka mutters, not forgetting Illumi's confession from last night.

"Alluka – Nanika – what is happening?" Illumi asks as the Ai begin speaking to her. It sounds like they're all saying the same thing –  _Ai, Ai, Ai._

Nanika opens her mouth, but the largest gas form interrupts.

_Ai. Ai._

"Ai," Nanika replies. She hesitates. "I'll explain after dinner, Big Brother."

Nanika claps her hands. "First, they want to know about the big bearded man and his sick friend."


	25. Are You Evil?

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Are You Evil?**

"You must be desperate to come to me." The seventh queen saunters into the humid brig, leading her bodyguards, led by Swinko-Swinko, and reeking of her own desperation.

Oito has never not seen Sevanti frowning. After all, Sevanti didn't care that her rank rose with Oito's addition to Nasubi's harem. Sevanti cared that Nasubi was no longer satisfied with her alone. And Sevanti has never forgiven her.

"More for your child than you," Oito says honestly, brushing back a thick curl.

"Marayam always had more potential than Momoze anyway." Sevanti sniffs. "That's why I had the guards focus on him."

Oito's face twists.

"Are you evil?" Leorio bursts out.

Sevanti's guards step forward, and Leorio takes a deep breath.

Biscuit Krueger and Hanzo, the young ninja from the Hunter Exam. It feels like so long ago.

But he can tell from Hanzo's burning eyes that he hasn't changed much. Still self-righteous. Still going to defend Sevanti's kids no matter what she decrees.

And Leorio doesn't know Biscuit well, but Gon and Killua trust her. That's enough for him to reassure himself.

"I'm loyal to my husband's wishes,  _unlike_  others," Sevanti says.

"Oito is loyal to her child," Phinks tosses back. His palms itch. He'd like to break this passive-aggressive bitch's long, slender neck. Like a twig.

"I didn't ask you here to fight. I asked you here because I'm serious about the threat on Marayam's life," Oito says.

"You don't seriously believe your child has a chance," Melody says tentatively. She wrings her hands with despair. "You asked your guards to stay with him because you like him best. And want to spend more time with him before his brothers or sisters kill him."

"What if we changed it? What if we stopped all of this? We have the Phantom Troupe to help us. We can use nen, all of us. Even  _you_ , Sevanti. We're not powerless." Oito grips the bars to their cell.

"And rebel?" Swinko-swinko asks sharply.

"If it keeps our children alive," Oito says. Tears fill her eyes. "I'd gladly be executed for treason if it meant Woble could live."

Where is Woble now? Has she been devoured by a mysterious jungle creature? Has she helped rescue Alluka? Is she lying somewhere, helpless and crying and wondering where her mother is?

"How can you say that from behind a jail cell?" Swinko-swinko fumes.

"She might not be for long," says a voice from the door.

The jail turns to see Unma, First Queen of Kakin. Her face is red with fury and, given her reputation, probably wine. "Tserriednich and Benjamin will …"

She breaks off. "I am not about to watch my two sons destroy each other. And once Duazal sees past her grief and anxiety spell, she will join us."

"Oito." Unma turns to the speechless young queen. "Should I send my guards to retrieve the key to your cell from Tserriednich?"

Oito fumbles for words. She? She is not meant to lead. She is not a leader. She is not. She is a silly, vapid woman paying for her choices with her daughter's life. Wasn't tragedy her only suitable end?

"We'll follow you," Franklin says. Bonolenov and Shizuku nod in agreement.

"Get us out of this damn Zetsu state already," gripes Nobunaga.

"Oito." Phinks wishes he could touch her shoulder, but he doesn't quite feel comfortable touching a queen as marvelous as Oito.

She turns to him.

"I haven't known you for longer than a few days, but I'm already willing to support you. You can  _do_  this," he says, awkwardly avoiding her eyes.

Oito nods slowly. "Yes…yes, Unma, free us."

"Pff." Swinko-swinko sniffs. "Never thought I'd be a traitor before now."

"You're joining too?" demands Sevanti.

"Your heart wants to, too," Melody tells her.

Sevanti scowls. "Don't tell me what I want."

"We will protect you and Marayam," Biscuit assures her.

"Fine," Sevanti snaps. "Are you happy?"

"Yes?" Phinks says, and Oito laughs a little.

* * *

 _First, they want to know about the big bearded man and his sick friend_.

"Do you mean Beyond?" Cheadle inquires, struggling to maintain her grip on Woble through the gaseous bonds.

 _Ai_.

A cluster of Ai begin babbling at the mere mention of his name.

"I'll suspect yes," Kurapika says slowly.

"Can you untie us, Nanika, at least?" Killua asks. "Machi's pregnant, and Cheadle's been holding Woble for a long time."

Nanika looks confused.

"Machi is having a baby," Machi interprets crisply. Beside her, Feitan still shivers at the words. Chrollo, however, smiles.

"Ooh, I like babies." Nanika slips towards her, chattering in Ai-speak with her fellow creatures. Some look at Machi with sympathy; others look infuriated.

Illumi senses their bloodlust and tries to control his own. No one will hurt Machi on his watch.

For now, at least, the sympathetic faction seems to have won out. Their bonds are released.

Illumi grabs Woble before Kurapika, because he misses babies, and because if his siblings aren't going to love him, he can at least hold a baby.

And the baby isn't old enough to hate him. Woble snuggles up against his chest, and Hisoka is stunned at how serene Illumi looks, if only for just a second.

"The Ai aren't recorded to have met Beyond. He encountered Zobae, not the Ai," Chrollo says.

Nanika smiles and, instead of answering, waves for them to follow her.

Killua trots on her heels as the Ai escort the interlopers into a pink cloud that drifts at the center of their vaporous city. A fireplace glows in the center, and the evening sun sparkles around them. What looks to be delicate, floating crystals form a circle surrounding the fire. Circles of leaves and sharpened, twisted twigs seem a form plates and silverware.

Gon groans at the smell of berries, spices, and savory plants he's never seen before that wafts before them.

Chrollo's stomach growls, and Kurapika smirks at him. He's not sure why, but he treasures every little human thing Chrollo does.

Even Machi, with all her nausea, seems invigorated by the scents.

"We have soup and roast roots and all kinds of sweet fruits." Nanika beams at Killua, because she knows he loves sweets.

"Are they poisoned?" Feitan asks.

The Ai turn their black eyes upon him.

"My girlfriend is pregnant. Of course I ask," Feitan says quickly.

"They should be okay," Nanika says.

"Are you the only one who can speak human speech?" Kurapika looks around the room.

"Learning," says a deeper, screechier Ai voice.

"I had to learn from Alluka! She's teaching them." Nanika claps her hands. "Let's sit."

Kurapika wrestles a sleepy Woble out of Illumi's arms and takes a quick sip of the soup first. When he doesn't drop dead, he begins to spoon it into her lips. He is relieved to see a smile on the little prince's face again as she smacks her lips.

"The Ai are in war," Nanika says as she draws a spoon of soup to her lips.

"With who?" Gon asks.

"What?" Hisoka chokes. He gives the kid credit for dropping this news as they eat. It's something he would do.

"We call it  _Ai_ ," Nanika says. Chrollo is sure there must be a slight change in intonation, or perhaps tone, but he can't discern it. Every word these creatures speak sounds like  _Ai_.

"It makes everyone and everything its slave. They want nothing more than to be happy and serve it," Nanika relates.

"Pap," Cheadle infers. "One of our five calamities."

_Ai. Ai. Ai._

Nanika waits for her companions to quiet. "That's why we have serpents guarding our territory. Their venom is powerful enough to destroy the pleasure of any of its servants."

"Well, it nearly destroyed Kalluto," Hisoka says with a laugh. Illumi shivers, nearly imperceptibly, at the mention.

Kalluto glowers at him. "I'm fine now."

"And I'm glad, brother-in-law." Hisoka smiles impishly as Kalluto sticks out his tongue.

The tallest Ai speaks quickly, and Nanika translates.

"But last time, the bearded man came to scout. To colonize our land like all materialists want. We can't deal with two wars. So we inflicted them with a deadly disease: if they want to establish empires to live forever, we will grant them their wish."

"Zobae," Chrollo says.

Nanika nods, as bubbly as ever, though the humans seem to be losing their appetites quickly.

"Are you sad?" Nanika asks suddenly.

"No, not at all," Gon says, shoveling more berries into his mouth.

"We just feel bad for them. They just wanted Metallion," Killua says.

"The cure." Nanika chews on a strand of hair. "We needed it, too."

"It cures illnesses?" Chrollo is fascinated by the irony of an expedition devastated by illness, yet never using the plant they came to collect.

"Yes, but one plant can only cure one person." Nanika looks perturbed. "He must have been saving it for someone." She looks sad. "And now you are back."

"We're not here to colonize!" Gon gasps. "We just want Alluka back."

"And Nanika," Killua adds, smiling at her.

She squeals with delight.

Chrollo thinks it best if he doesn't speak or defend humanity. Since he once resorted to slaughter to take a clan's eyes, he's not precisely one to speak against colonization.

 _I don't colonize. I kill._ If the Ai knew who he, Machi, and Feitan were, and what they had done, the Ai would surely end them. And Chrollo would understand that preemptive choice. Because his actions suggest he is the monster they think all humans are, regardless of accuracy.

To his relief, Kurapika opens his mouth. "Gon… _we_  aren't here to colonize. But – to be honest – Kakin, the Empire leading the voyage, is."

The Ai speak rapidly. Somehow, they've figured out what Kurapika meant before Nanika even translated.

Feitan swears.

"Why am I not surprised," Machi says dryly.

"But Oito is not. It depends on who wins the succession war – with Nasubi's death anything could happen," Kurapika speaks as quickly as he can. "Suppose we allied with you? Could you help us stop the people who wish to colonize, and let us leave in peace?"

"More than that," Chrollo adds, trying to shake the guilt for Scarlet Eyes once more. "I…am sure they could try to help you against your enemy. Pap. Whatever you call it."

"They don't like materialists," says Nanika slowly.

"But you do." Hisoka's eyes narrow.

Illumi looks at him with interest. What has his husband noticed?

She nods. "They don't like me."

Nanika looks at Killua.  _Don't you see? I'm different, just like you. Big Brother, please still be my Big Brother_. But in her flummoxed state, all that comes out is "Ai."

Killua smiles at her. "Well,  _I_  do like you. Alluka does. Kalluto and Gon and Kurapika do, too."

"I'm in awe of you," Chrollo says.

Nanika blushes. Mr. Chrollo is so handsome and so powerful, and he likes her!

Another Ai drifts forward. It speaks firmly.

"He says they need to discuss tonight. Since you can't make alliance decisions exactly." Nanika hesitates. "In the meantime, they have sleeping quarters for all of you."

"We together." Feitan puts an arm around Machi's waist.

"So are we." Hisoka yanks Illumi to his side.

"Kalluto can stay with us," adds Killua, glancing towards Gon, who nods in approval. "But, Nanika, I want to talk to you more. And Alluka."  
Nanika looks sad. "Okay."

"Do you want to do that later?" Chrollo asks. He's not sure how their nen works, but right now he's unsure if Nanika, or any Ai, has the power to deny a request.

Nanika nods eagerly.

"Okay," Killua says slowly. He looks hurt.

Cheadle turns to Kurapika and Chrollo. "Do you want me to watch Woble tonight?"

Kurapika hesitates.

"Nothing will happen to her, I swear it," Cheadle says.

"If Machi's instincts say we're okay to sleep, we probably are," Chrollo says.

"Okay." Kurapika hands Woble back to Cheadle. The baby giggles, immediately smudging Cheadle's glasses with her grubby hands.

"Are you two in the same room?" Nanika asks Kurapika and Chrollo.

Chrollo wants to shout yes, but he'll let Kurapika make that choice.

"Together," Kurapika says impulsively, tightening his hand around Chrollo's.

Chrollo's mouth dries. He feels as though he's ascended to the clouds, like he always dreamt as a kid.

* * *

An Ai leads them to a square room. The roof is nothing, and the walls are mist that shimmer in the moonlight. And yet it feels private, as every sparkle distracts passerbies from its occupants' actions.

"Thank you," Chrollo says to the Ai.

"Ai." It drifts away.

"You scared me today," Chrollo says, as soon as the door is shut. It's easier to talk about what Kurapika has done wrong than to have Kura praise him. "Promise me you won't use those chains except on the Spiders."

"I already lost my family. I can't lose you too. Are you daft?" Kurapika crosses his arms as he sinks onto their bed, which is composed of leaves as soft and springy as a royal mattress.

"When will you forgive yourself for surviving?" Chrollo sits on the edge of their bed. "You left to save your friend. You're not at fault."

"I led you to our clan." Kurapika looks up at the stars, as if he'll find an answer swirling in space.

"You'd blame yourself anyways," Chrollo counters.

"If I forgive you, who else do I have to blame? Where else can I direct my rage?" Kurapika blinks back tears.

Chrollo plays with the Kurta's lone earring. "Me."

"I – I told you already, I don't want to be angry with you." Kurapika's tears spill over his cheeks. They glitter in the night haze.

Chrollo stills. He can't quite believe it anymore. "I – I murdered your family. Your entire people."

Kurapika turns around. His eyes are red. "That's the first time I've heard you say those precise words."

Chrollo smiles sadly. "They're true. And I can't even regret it, because I met you. But I can regret the killing, the pain, Uvogin and Paku."

Kurapika leans over. His face is inches from Chrollo's. He can feel the Kurta's breath on his.

"Is it okay if I say what I want? Even if I take it back later because I'm scared?"

Chrollo nods.

"I am through living for my dead family. I want to live for my living family now. Gon. Killua. Leorio. Alluka. They're all people I love. And you." A tear falls from Kurapika's scarlet eyes into Chrollo's grey eyes.

"Nothing you've done can compare you what I've done," Chrollo reminds him.

"I saw what you did. You offered yourself for your enemies. You helped save Alluka and Kalluto - and you sacrificed yourself for me. You've changed." Kurapika sighs. "And so have I. It's foolish to force ourselves to be the same we were then."

A ghost of a smile plays with Chrollo's lips. "You really were a dashing rescuer on the boat."

"I forgive you, Chrollo Lucilfer." Kurapika holds out his chainless hand.

Chrollo takes it. He doesn't feel clean, not yet, maybe not ever, but he feels hope. And, to his surprise, tears on his own face. "Thank you."

Kurapika drops his head as his hands brush aside Chrollo's tears. "By the way, I truly do like the nickname 'Kura.'"

Chrollo brightens. He dares to drag Kura's face towards his own, to dig his hands in the Kurta's hair, to envelop Kura's lips in his. "Are you sure you want this?"

Kurapika nods as he traces Chrollo's tattoo with his fingers.

"Your clan will be extinct if you stay," Chrollo reminds him. One last log of guilt to throw in the fire.

"Not as long as I'm here." Kurapika nestles besides him. "And I hope we're both here for a long time."

"Me too," says Chrollo, and for the first time he imagines a long life, a beautiful life with Kurapika by his side. "So why don't you make me yours?"

"I thought you already were." Kurapika slips atop Chrollo, who wears a dreamy smile.

Chrollo grins. He adores how eager Kura is. He wants to be wanted. To be treasured. To feel valued in more than legacy – he never has before.

It's like a new world. Well, he supposes they are on a new continent.

"I love you," Kurapika pants as he quakes inside Chrollo, inside the intellectual thief writhing and moaning with passion for him.

Chrollo throws his arms around Kurapika in exultation. He digs his fingernails into the base of Kurapika's back. His heart accelerates, and he smiles again, but a smile that displays his teeth, an abandoned smile few have ever seen. "I love you too, Kura the Chain Bastard."


	26. For Now, A Family

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**For Now, A Family**

Spider-thread clouds spin their tendrils through the upper atmosphere, but on earth, in his room of clouds, Illumi cannot sleep.

He's here. On a strange continent, with creatures that could kill Killua and all of them. Creatures he knows that he has not exactly treated well before.

"Thinking of something?" Hisoka slips his hands under Illumi's pants.

Illumi squirms. As pleasant as Hisoka's ministrations are, he must talk to his family. Now.

"I have to talk to her. With Killua as negotiator. Kalluto too. I have to – I must know the answer, even if I die." Illumi sits up. "I am a terrible assassin and brother. But I have to try."

"You don't even know where she's sleeping. If Ai sleep." Though given the beds, Hisoka assumes they do. Still, he's careful to remove his hands from Illumi. He does not want to force Illumi.

"A search is never a hindrance." Illumi slides out of bed.

He's really doing it. Spoiling their one chance to sleep well. Or do other activities in a private room, at least. God, why is Hisoka's husband like this?

"I'll accompany you, but I do hope to fuck you later," Hisoka murmurs.

Illumi doesn't much like the word fuck, but he does like the action. "I'd like that."

Hisoka wraps his arms around Illumi from behind, rejoicing over his husband's simply sincerity. "You are too precious."

Illumi turns his head to kiss Hisoka. "We need to make up for lost time. Don't think I've forgotten."

"You try so hard to joke and come up short." Hisoka wiggles his eyebrows as his heart skips. "Let's get going, then."

* * *

"Kil. Killlllllllllua," calls a voice, cutting through Killua's dreams.

Killua stumbles to the foggy door, elucidating Illumi's form beyond the walls, distorted by the mist and his own exhaustion.

"This had better be good." He rubs his eyes.

"I thought you always said rest was important after injury," Kalluto calls from his bed. He too is already awake, already alert according to Zoldyck teaching. "Oh, just kidding, that was Machi."

Illumi crosses his arms. He's still not thrilled about these fake adoptive parents. Okay, mostly he's just hurt. Why can't he and Hisoka be the adoptive parents?

He swallows, shocked at his disloyalty to Mother and Father. The thought is buried back in his brain immediately, but it haunts him all the same.

"I'm glad you're okay, Kalluto," Illumi says to start. He's not even bringing up his mission to find Alluka. He's talking to the brother before him first. Isn't that…how normal people do it? How Killua wants him to do it?

"What's Hisoka doing here?" Gon waves from the bed.

Hisoka waves back. Gon always seems to perk up around him. Not the other way around. Right?

Gon would never wave to Illumi, of course. Illumi realizes he is probably at fault for that. He did threaten to kill Gon the first time they met. And later tried to prevent Killua from saving him – okay, Illumi knows he fucked up.

"I want to talk to Alluka," Illumi says plainly, breaking his 'normal person' act. "Not Nanika.  _Alluka_. We haven't seen her."

"I trust Nanika that she's sleeping and tired from teaching the Ai," Killua says.

"I don't." Illumi remembers staring at Alluka playing with her dollhouse, innocent and blissful as Mother and Father discussed which sibling they could use to test her powers.

And then he intervened, suggesting a butler. Because Mother and Father never imagined Alluka could be a danger, but Illumi did, and he knew it was best to prove it soon, so Killua would not be hurt.

He had been so proud of himself when the butler died. For proving his hypothesis.

He'd proven Nanika was not Alluka. His little brother was not a threat to the family; the thing possessing him, perhaps even responsible for convincing him he was a girl, was at fault. They merely had to exorcise him.

And then Mother and Father insisted, instead, that this thing was no longer human, nor a member of the family.

This is true of Nanika. But it's not true for Alluka, and Illumi would like to rescue her. Or him. Hisoka's sided with Killua and Kalluto, insisting that Alluka has shown she wants to be a girl, too.

"You're not planning anything stupid, are you?" Kalluto frowns.

"I taught you both better than that," Illumi replies.

"Okay, true," Killua acknowledges. "Let's find her."

* * *

"Oito, come in." Queen Duazal greets the queen escorted by Melody, Leorio, and half the Phantom Troupe. She motions for them to enter her chambers.

Oito smiles tentatively. Duazal is one of the warmer wives; she always treated Oito like an equal, and at times a friend.

Tserriednich could discover their escape anytime now. Oito licks her lips.

"Is this them?" Queen Seiko's austere expression has not changed since Oito saw her last, since Nasubi lived and the succession contest had barely begun. Beside her stand a desperate Prince Kacho and a terrified Prince Fugetsu.

"Oito, if you're tricking us, I will kill you myself," Kacho promises.

"Kacho…there's no need to pretend anymore. You and your sister may both survive." Melody looks at her with pity.

Kacho is horrified. Someone has seen past her awful façade? Someone knows all she wants is to save her sister, even if it means drawing everyone's ire to herself?

"Hi there." Prince Tyson flutters her eyelashes at Nobunaga.

He pales.

"Stop behaving like a harlot," Queen Katrono commands her daughter.

"And yet, we're the ones who married an already-married king, so who is the harlot here?" Oito watches Tyson's tragic expression. Katrono's severity with her homely daughter is reflected in the prince's need for male approval. And it has always hurt Oito's heart, but she's never said anything before.

She's not sure why she feels compelled to speak now. But if she doesn't speak now, when?

"You're no harlot," Phinks assures Oito, nearly tripping over his words in his haste. "Not at all!"

"Thank you," Oito says tremulously, "but I don't know anything anymore."

Tang Zhao stands besides Prince Zhang Lei. The quiet queen has never spoken to Oito. And, in fact, she still says nothing, but her nod speaks more than Oito needs.

"Is this everyone?" Unma demands.

"I believe so," says Swinko-swinko, pinching Sale-Sale into paying attention. "Oito, have you a plan?"

"Of sorts." Oito snaps her fingers, and the door opens one last time.

Mizaistom and the Zodiacs, minus Cheadle and Kurapika, enter the room.

"Told you they'd help." Leorio grins.

"Perfect. They'll help by guarding the Princes," Oito says.

"What?" Tubeppa exclaims.

"We have three targets to restrain. Benjamin, Tserriednich, and that woman, Morena Prudo. All are accomplished and dangerous nen users, and therefore we'll need the strength of the Phantom Troupe to confront them."

Oito clasps her hands and looks around the room, in everyone's eyes, one by one. Some are scared; others defensive; others too cynical to hope.

"In the meantime, we must keep the rest of our children safe. The Zodiacs are talented enough that we queens trust them to guard you all." Swinko-swinko crosses her arms.

"We won't wait here while you die," Tubeppa insists.

"You're not waiting. You're going to be escorted off the ship," Oito says.

"With the Ai?!" Zhang Lei is appalled.

"It's safer out there than here. And if you're so concerned about Ai: they, at least, do not have murderous intent. And we have a friend among them," Oito says. She hopes to God that Alluka is still alive. Her eyes prickle. "My child has likely reached them by now."

She can't bear to think otherwise.

"I'm sure Woble has," Shizuku says quietly, and Oito sends her a teary smile of gratitude.

What kind of leader cries?

Phinks hates emotion. He especially hates tears. Because he cries often, when he's alone.

His heart swells at the sight of Oito weeping. This woman is perfect.

"While you're hiding among the forest, speak with your siblings about what kind of country you'd wish to see. Perhaps we shall implement it," says Unma.

"And you? Our mothers?" Kacho looks afraid.

"We're queens; it's time we acted the part. We – we – we will accompany the Troupe. If anyone can speak to your wayward brothers, it is us," stammers Sevanti.

"We are all clustered here should anyone attack!" Tyson scowls.

"There won't be just people guarding you in the room. Hanzo, Biscuit, Melody, and the elite hunter guards will be positioned outside. If anyone malevolent approaches, they will be dealt with," Oito says.

"And if our brothers don't listen to reason?" Fugetsu asks softly.

"That's why we're here." Nobunaga winks. "Amazing what a little force can do to open one's capacity for reason."

Phinks guffaws. "Ask him how he knows."

"Then…I can tell you the secret way to Tserriednich's chambers," says Tubeppa. "We had discussed an alliance previously." She looks around the room. "Well, I was planning on sparing all of you!"

"That's nice," says Prince Luzurus. "You were going to be my first victim."

"A scientist as your first target? That seems foolish, no?" Tubeppa wrinkles her nose.

"Enough bickering, please," Oito beseeches them. "I understand we're a family, and we can return to our spats and loathings and petty jealousies later, but not now."

"For right now," says Unma, "we ought to be a family."

* * *

Nanika has sensed them coming. Mr. Chrollo's empathy could only keep her siblings away for so long.

Still, she remains levitating twenty meters above the ground, staring at the moon. Reaching for the stars, as if reaching for a cookie on a high shelf.

Nanika hasn't missed much about this place, but night floats, when you felt you could be swallowed up by the swirling galaxy above, are the exception.

"Did you even go to bed, little sister?" Illumi asks from below.

Her siblings have entered the room they dined in that evening. Though now it is morning, just barely, just a second past midnight, but it feels like the future.

"I can sleep like this," Nanika says merrily as she sinks back to the table.

"That's awesome," Killua says with enthusiasm. Even now, he does not want to command her. "Um, Nanika, Can we talk to Alluka too? We missed both of you, you see."

"'Kay." Nanika understands. She can only hope he really did miss her, along with Alluka. She retreats.

"Killua!" Alluka's blue eyes open. She throws her arms around him. "I've missed you so much!"

"We've missed you too," Kalluto says, pushing Killua aside to hug her next. "Did you know Machi and Feitan are having a baby?"  
"Nanika told me!" Alluka squeals. "How exciting!"

"Alluka." Illumi reaches for her, and his heart aches when she inches backwards. He draws away, hanging his head. "Alluka…have they hurt you?"

"Oh. No, not at all." Alluka clasps her hands. "I teach them to speak out language! They like me more than Nanika, actually."

"But she's one of them," Gon says.

"They, uh, don't like concrete matter or lifeforms very much. Nanika broke a lot of tradition to come to us." Alluka's voice lowers.

"You mean she was kicked out," Hisoka says bluntly.

"Big brother, you're kind of mean," Alluka tells him.

Hisoka chortles with laughter, even as his heart warms towards the child he almost killed. Fighting her would  _certainly_  be interesting, though he won't, because Illumi would kill him first.

"She chose me because she saw I didn't fit in already. 'Cause I liked girl stuff," Alluka says, swinging her legs back and forth. "I don't mind."

"But…how of all places did Nanika come to the Zoldycks?" Illumi taps his chin.

Alluka looks distressed. "I don't know. She'd have to tell you. But she won't even tell me."

A question occurs to Illumi, a question he wonders why no one has asked before. "What…what was it like? When Nanika came?"

"Um, hmm, I don't really remember." Alluka looks thoughtful. "I had a new friend. She used to ask me stuff at night when we were alone. Then she saw Killua being nice to me and wanted people to be nice to her, too, so I let her ask for stuff."

But didn't she realize Nanika was hurting people? Did she not understand?

Or does she ask because gifts make her feel loved? Like Illumi used to kill when he was a child, just to feel loved. Illumi opens his mouth.

"Isn't there something you want to say?" Killua asks sharply, cutting him off.

Illumi glances towards Hisoka, who dutifully shows that his phone is  _not_  on record.

He kneels before Alluka. His dark eyes look into hers. "Alluka. I am sorry I did not consider you a family member. I am sorry I tried to kill you. And I am sorry – I am sorry to Nanika, too."

Illumi holds out his hand. "From now on, I am going to try to be your oldest brother."

 _Please_. He swallows back his cry.

"It's not fun," Killua adds, but there's a playful note to his voice. A note that raises Illumi's hopes.

"And you love him anyways," Hisoka sings, throwing Killua a glare.

Wait, is Hisoka actually defensive over Illumi? Killua tries not to laugh.

"I am sorry I exposed you to danger on the ship," Illumi continues.

"They would have found us anyways. Just took shorter when Nanika used her nen." Alluka's eyes shine. She looks cute enough to leave Illumi breathless, wondering how he had wanted to hurt her. "Will you pat me on the head?"

Illumi nods. This isn't Nanika's request game. This is his sister.

He's not afraid. He reaches out to stroke her hair.

Alluka giggles as she returns the favor to Illumi's head; he looks as though he really has floated into the stars.

* * *

Come morning, Kurapika's skin is still slick with sweat. His arm sticks across Chrollo's bare chest, and his chin is buried in Chrollo's shoulder.

"We have a guest," Chrollo says gently, to awaken Kurapika.

An Ai hovers in the doorway.

"I think it wants us to follow it." Chrollo fishes for their clothing, and notes with some delight how Kurapika's face still blushes.

The creature squeaks.  _Ai_.

This, at least, is one of the friendlier members of its species. It babbles to them as they follow, emitting nothing but a pleasant aura.

"I think it likes us," Chrollo says, mesmerized by the way the clouds glow gold in the dawn.

Kurapika snickers. He doesn't often know what it's like to be liked. Not anymore.

"Hi!" Nanika waves from the same table they had dinner at. "We have breakfast!"

Illumi and Hisoka, looking even more tired than before, sit there. Killua looks grumpy, Kalluto is asleep at his seat, and Gon looks, well, as awake as Gon usually does. It's a relief to see that Gon is fine, even if the Zoldycks look like hell.

Cheadle enters the room, bouncing Woble.

Kurapika leaps to his feet and takes the Prince, to Illumi's disappointment.

The Kurta really likes children, Chrollo realizes, watching Kurapika talk gibberish to Woble.

He feels a twinge of guilt, because he really would deny Kurapika that if they continue their relationship.

So Chrollo scoops Woble from Kurapika's arms. He beams at the baby, who claps her hands to his cheeks and pulls on his nose.

Children…are cute.

Children…won't remember this. Woble will only grow up knowing if her mother and allies defeated her brother, or she may not grow up at all.

Machi and Feitan arrive with a horde of Ai, and Chrollo can't help but ponder if Woble will know their child, befriend them, despise them. Who knows what life could bring?

But he knows he wants their kids to have the chance to know each other.

Once everyone settles in their seats, Nanika claps her hands again.

"Ai, ai! They didn't refuse your request." She nods.

"Did they accept our partnership?" Machi asks skeptically.

"They want proof that you won't colonize us."

Killua's mouth opens and closes. "We don't have proof."

Nanika looks troubled. The Ai's voices rise.

"We aren't in charge! Prince Tserriednich is, and we want to replace him with a good person, but that's all we have. We came here for Alluka and Nanika only," Gon asserts.

"Kid, please calm down," Hisoka, of all people, mutters.

"My companions are right. We don't have proof." Kurapika rises. "But I have something close to proof."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a jar of scarlet eyes, as his own turn the same color.

"I'm from a small clan who were exploited for our eyes." Kurapika points to his. He raises a shaking hand with Pairo's eyes. "These were my best friend's. Taken when our entire clan was slaughtered."

His voice catches. "I swear on these eyes, I would never allow that to happen to anyone else. Be they human or Ai or anything else that lives on this continent."

Feitan, Machi, and Chrollo stare at the table; everyone else is transfixed on Kurapika.

Kurapika has never used his story for anything but fuel. Fuel for vengeance and hatred.

But now, he thinks, as he moves his eyes from Ai to Ai, pleading with them, perhaps good can still come from his pain.

 _Ai_ , says a husky voice.

"They accept your testimony," Nanika says. "And agree. Though any betrayal will be met with your deaths, and all of those you love."

Feitan eyes Hisoka. "Don't fuck up."

"I don't actually wish to die," he shoots back.

Killua hugs Nanika. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Nanika smiles. "Pat my head."

Chrollo turns to thank his lover, but Kurapika is already moving away from him, crossing the room.

Kurapika approaches Machi with Woble in his arms. He's not sure why he wants to do this, but he does. Especially now, after laying his pain bare. "Hey, Machi. You deserve a chance to prepare."

"You'd trust me with a child, Chain Bastard?" Machi avoids his eyes.

"I do," Kurapika says, and she smiles in relief.

When she lifts the toddler in her arms, she feels a second chance lift her heart.


	27. Question Everything

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

**Question Everything**

**Hey, how the hell are we at 27 chapters already? And whilst we are nearing the end of this arc, I have one more planned. :)**

Silence roars in the ears of those in Prince Tserriednich's brightly lit chambers. Theta, the bodyguard who knows him best, looks pained; the other bodyguards, petrified.

Tserriednich has absorbed the news of Oito and The Troupe's escape with far too much ease.

That's enough to please Morena. She barely bothers to conceal her smirk.

His eyes flit to her. "Come here, sister."

Morena saunters closer, drawing out each step as she approaches the couch he uses as his throne.

His eyes flash with impatience, and she slows down more. Just to fuck with him.

He leaps to his feet and grabs her by her throat. Several guards flinch, like the cowards they are. "Did you set this up?"

"Freeing the Phantom Troupe? Never," Morena says sweetly.

"May I remind you that she's never hid herself. They're as likely to hunt her as you," Theta says quickly, as if she cares to prevent her boss from hurting Morena.

Morena could not care less; she's in full control here. But Theta's personal feelings intrigue her.

"Not that." Tserriednich looms over her. His beady eyes fixate on hers, as if the ancient philosophers were correct and truth can be read from her eyes.

Though he's the only one who doesn't much seem to care about her scar. If Tseriednich weren't the spawn of the royal family, Morena would figure him worthy of existence.

"Halkenburg. You convinced me to send him where Benjamin could kill him."

"Careful, now. That sounds like paranoia. I thought the Troupe were your culprits," Morena says calmly.  _Think you're paranoid. Question everything._

_That is how chaos begins._

Tserriednich loosens his grip, but his eyes remain suspicious.

"Ultimately, Prince, with Halkenburg's murder you lost another rival. I would focus on that." Morena sniffs before sweeping out of the room.

She closes her eyes and summons her followers. Some are in the cafeteria. Some smart ones are fortifying the ship. Some beauty-stricken idiots are watching the daylit meteor shower above. Now, while her brother is being driven mad by his mind, is the perfect time.

People begin to move, fluid and normal, towards the deck.

 _Go crazy_ , she promises them as the door closes behind her.

* * *

A familiar, gently sweet odor is the first indication to Swinko-swinko that something is wrong.

With the exception of Duazal, Unma, and Oito – who, accompanied by various Troupe members, are off to reason with their progeny and that bastard daughter – the rest of the queens have banded together and refused all guard. Their mission should not be dangerous.

But with dull shouts above them, and this eerie smell, Swinko-Swinko is about to curse her confidence.

Tang Zhao sucks in her breath. It's the – the same –

Someone screams below, and Swinko-swinko has flashbacks to a few nights ago, when the ship was first attacked. Most likely by Tserriednich or Benjamin themselves.

They're on Tier 1, the upmost deck, far removed from the chaos below. But Swinko-swinko doesn't need to see it to know that green gas is once more seeping through the cracks in the ship.

 _So this is where the succession has taken us – the destruction of Kakin_. Swinko-swinko almost regrets her confidence in her safety. She almost regrets the confidence that originally captured Nasubi's attention for a brief few months, over two decades ago.

Seiko tries to muffle a sob. Around them, the commoners they see wear alarmed expressions; people talk in hushed whispers about escaped prisoners, escaped passengers cannibalized on the continent, Nasubi's ghost coming to execute them all for not seeing the succession contest through.

Some clearly don't recognize the queens. Others do, but refuse to believe that queens would sneak about unaccompanied.

"No time to waste, women," Katrono snaps, quickening her pace. "We've got to take the wheelhouse."

But when the four queens raise their fists to open the door, the door swings open.

Captain Mercyn waves meekly. "Hello. We've been expecting your Highnesses."

"I beg your pardon?" Swinko-Swinko conjures her scariest expression, and Seiko's eyes quite literally shoot sparks.

Nen is new to them, but oh, how the queens like it.

"More like,  _I_  was expecting you." A handsome, clownish young man drapes his body across the wheel, wearing the cap of Captain Baha. "Hello. My name is Hisoka, but you know me as Captain Baha. I've come back from the dead."

* * *

After Morena's departure, after rumors of gas begin to surface, Tserriednich remains in his seat. As if by sitting on a couch dubbed a throne, he'll retain power for himself.

Morena has played him, but he always knew she was. He just didn't suspect she'd turn this quickly if power was what she sought.

Perhaps, he thinks, his own avarice has led to this. He typically assumes people are motivated by power and greed, and for the most part, he's right.

Morena isn't motivated to take power. She's motivated to destroy it.

He isn't thrilled that Halkenburg is dead, regardless of dangers that accompanied his moralistic brother's popularity.

He wishes he knew why.

Behind him, his otherwise grotesque Guardian Spirit Beast takes on the face of Halkenburg.

"Prince," Theta says, timidly.

"Is it king now, is it not?" Tserriednich looks towards the ceiling. The ancients are wrong. There's no answer in his treacherous sister's eyes, none in the ceiling, none in the sky.

The door flies open.

Beyond Netero stalks into Prince Tserriednich's room without knocking. To him, knocking is a useless custom anyhow. His father often insisted on common civilities that Beyond sees no need to follow.

"What are you doing here?" Tserriednich scoffs. His tension radiates throughout the room.

"I heard my friends escaped," Beyond says, with a genial shrug.

"Is there anyone who is not your friend?" Tserriednich can't help but smile. He does actually enjoy this man's company.

"Plenty, though there are none  _I_ am not a friend  _to_ ," Beyond replies.

"I suppose this is my first crisis as a ruler, is it not? An opportunity." Tserriednich waits for Beyond's affirmation.

Beyond regards him kindly. At the end of all, even across Lake Mobius and on an unknown land of darkness, people don't change. They're still kids frantically scrambling to fill the holes caused by their fathers.

Be they spoiled princes, abandoned progeny abandoned for the hunters' cause, or assassins punished for their parents' misdeeds.

Tserriednich laughs to fill the silence. "You freed them, didn't you?"

"I did not. Though if they hadn't found a way, I would have, as I warned you before." Beyond crosses his arms. "They, and Morena's gas, are the least of your concerns."

"Oh? And could possibly be  _larger_  concerns?" Tserriednich considers laughing at his misfortune.

"Ai." Beyond looks grave.

"Those monsters?"

"They possess a child called Alluka Zoldyck. Yes, those Zoldycks."

"Are there any other Zoldycks?" Tserriednich rolls his eyes.

"Likely not." Beyond strokes his beard. "But I assure you, if the child convinces her kind to return for her family, we had best hope they aren't near us."

Beyond expects Tserriednich to inquire about the Ai, or how he knows them.

Instead, the Prince rests his chin on his hands. "Tell me, how did such a powerful family come to own a helpless child?"

"That," Beyond says, "is not your story to hear."

"Try me." Tserriednich purses his lips.

The ship lists to its side again.

Beyond chokes on his own sorrowful laughter. "They're here. They have to be."

* * *

"People are dying." Tubeppa hesitates by the broken window they've made in the ship's storage compartment. Most of her siblings have already escaped, but the familiar scent, the slight tinge of green in the air, tells her something dreadful is about to happen.

"More will die if you all don't survive to stabilize the kingdom," Biscuit replies.

"I can't save a nation if I flee from it," Tubeppa snaps.

"Why not? Is there a rule against it?" Biscuit taps her chin before reverting to her true, towering form. A single kick sends the lionhearted princess spiraling into the ocean.

"Biscuit…" Leorio hesitates. "I'm a doctor."

"Oh, you too?" She blows out her breath. "Listen: what good does sacrificing yourself do? If you're sick, who will heal? Let the queens handle this. Queens are never fragile."

"Or you'll kick me, right?" Leorio smirks.

"Yes." Biscuit points to the window, and Leorio scrambles to escape.

He can't help but close his eyes as he dives towards the sea.

After far too much time, Leorio realizes he is dry and no longer falling.

His eyes pop open.

 _Ai_ , sings a voice behind him.

A dark cloud clutches him, gliding towards the dark continent, and Leorio can't help a bloodcurdling shriek.

Hanzo shakes his head as Leorio, red-faced and out of breath, is dumped among the crowd of royals and black orbs.

"Not a word." Leorio shakes a fist at him.

"And you were supposed to guard us?" Kacho laughs.

"It seems we have many guests," says Miziastom, pointing to the trees.

Leorio chokes. Hundreds of Ai peek out from the forest. Watching them. Enough to kill them all.

"Don't worry about it." Cheadle steps out from behind a berry-filled bsh. "We're here to help."

"Cheadle, you're alive!" Leorio gasps. Behind them, another Ai carries Biscuit ashore, to his relief.

"Disappointed?" she retorts.

"No," he says sullenly. His face reddens. "With your hair, you blended right in to the forest."

Cheadle swallows the flutter in her heart. "Melody says there's more gas aboard."

"It seems so." Leorio raises his fist. "We have to save them!"

"I'm with him," says Machi's voice. She looks more bitter than Leorio has ever seen her, even while she gently rocks Woble in her arms.

"We will." Cheadle says. "As many as we can. As soon as we won't be certainly killing ourselves by boarding."

Leorio scans the trees. "Where's Alluka? And Gon and Killua and Kurapika?"

Machi points to the ship.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Leorio slaps his forehead. "Why am I always left behind?!"

* * *

The deck surges with panicked people running to and fro, too scared to join the continent, too scared to remain aboard.

_We're all gonna die!_

_Help!_

_Shut up_!

 _The King's magic will save us all_!

Ah, yes, Morena recalls that line. The line spoken to her when her mother was starving on the streets, with a disfigured child. The line laughable, as people grew poorer and poorer.

 _The king's magic will save us all_!

She vowed never to forget, and she hasn't. Even when her grandparents had taken her in – after her disgraced mother's demise – and Morena had regular meals and splendid clothing and education, she did not forget.

_Don't cross the king; he's got magic._

_Why is the king a king, if he hurt me?_ She asked Grandmother one day, when she was all of seven.

 _Nen,_ Grandmother replied.

_But you've got nen, too. Why don't you do something._

_The more people learn nen, the more we stand to lose,_ Grandmother replied. _Would you like to be back on the streets?_

And seven-year-old Morena hated herself because, of course, she did not want that.

"It's the Troupe! They've come back for revenge!" wails a man, falling to his knees before Morena as he tears at his face.

Ah, yes, people and their scapegoats. People and their excuses.

"If you're so scared," Morena says, "why not leap overboard?"

The man stares at her, and she decides he's not worth a kiss.

She steps up to the bow of the ship, in the exact spot Tserriednich stood on to execute Camilla. "People of Kakin!"

The panicked crowd doesn't listen. That's okay. They've been so consumed with nen magic that they've forgotten everything else.

There's no nen here. It's still far below, on the lowest deck, creeping upwards.

Just fear, and people seeing what they wish to see.

Of course, Morena's nen is proof that the king's magic is indeed real, but she'll convince them it's not. She'll take all their hopes and dreams and all those fuckers who use  _magic_  as an excuse will die faithless.

"You've been tricked!" she screams suddenly, and now people are listening, because people never want to believe they've been tricked.

Morena laughs hysterically as two of her underlings drags a keg of supposed beer towards her. A canister of copper dissolved in alcohol, mixed with perfume and her saliva. The drink to ruin their dreams, and save hers. "See this?"

Another underling, a thin kid not quite into his teenage years, hands her a torch.

She lights it, and flames leap across the keg.

Green flames, and a sickly sweet odor.

"It's not nen! Nen does not exist!" She roars with laughter. "Everyone – the princes, the king, the Phantom Troupe – they use their magic to deceive you! To keep you oppressed! Everything you've been taught is a lie – a lie that can do far more damage than this smoke!"

* * *

"Phinks, this is chaos." Oito surveys around the panicked crowd. Her plan to reason with Nasubi's bastard feels tenuous at best.

"Best not to draw attention

Oito pulls Phinks behind her as she ducks behind a lifeboat.

Phinks sniffs the smoky air again. He knew it. "Something smells different."

"I don't get it; why would she use science instead of nen? What's the point?" Oito shakes her head.

"To fuck with how people see the world, if you'll pardon my language, my queen?" Phinks flushes.

"Never apologize to me again," Oito commands, pointing at him. "Not for that, at least."

Phinks smiles slightly, but just as quickly, alarm strikes his face.

Closer to the flame, closer to the gas, people begin to act strangely. Instead of vomiting as before, they turn, like zombies, towards each other.

With bloodlust. Phinks's heart thumps. "What's happening?"

"How would I know?" Oito squints. "Are – are people using their own nen?"

Phinks switches into Gyo, which is not precisely his forte. Indeed, people begin to release frightening auras. They wrangle with their neighbors and attempt to devour another.

"It's all the same Aura. It's hers," he says. "Like she's possessing them."

Oito swallows her own  _fuck_.

"Gentlemen and ladies, citizens of Kakin, slaves of no one, colonizing bastards. Kill each other," says Morena.

She snaps her fingers. As people begin to scream and rip at each other's faces, she strides through the crowd. No one approaches her. No one dares.

"She used nen for her final dismantling of nen and the faith of people," Oito surmises. "Brilliant."

She stands. "I'm not brilliant, but I'm still going to stop her."

"You won't!" Phinks grabs Oito. "You'll breathe it in!"

"She's headed away from the smoke." Oito pulls free, determined.

And then Phinks' worst fears come true.

Someone recognizes Oito.

"There's the queen! The liar!" screams someone.

A woman charges at Oito, and Phinks throws himself forward. He sends the attacker spiraling with his fist. "Get the hell out of here."

"Phinks!"

"I'm commanding you, queen. Grant me this one." He knocks two men back, and a third tries to tackle him.

"You'll really be okay?" she gasps.

"I didn't join the Phantom Troupe on a whim." Phinks tosses the man across the deck and cracks his knuckles. "Save your kingdom and your kid."

He tosses her a grin. "And maybe remember me when you do."

"I won't have to – you'll be by my side," Oito blurts, before dashing after Morena.

* * *

Chrollo, Kurapika, and Feitan stare in amazement at the death and bloodshed littering the deck. The Ai who carried them, along with Alluka as translator, squeak.

"And I thought things were bad a few nights ago," Chrollo quips.

"Get the Troupe!" Desperate for someone to blame, the more conscious citizens have turned their ire towards the lone Troupe member exposing his presence.

"Fei," says Chrollo, and the Number Two spider nods.

"Phinks – imbecile!" Feitan rushes through the riot as Phinks is overwhelmed by dozens of attackers, who wrestle him to the ground.

"Get off!" Feitan knock back several of the possessed. He cuts them with his sword, but just enough to hurt. Not to kill. He's not dumb enough to think that is a good idea given their goal.

"Feitan!" Phinks has never been gladder to see the small man guarding his back.

"Miss me?"

"I barely notice when you're here in the first place, shorty," he says with a grin as he readies himself for the next assault.

* * *

Alluka waves back towards the shore, and hundreds of dark, amorphous creatures begin to cross the ocean.

"Time to find your queen?" Chrollo asks.

Kurapika nods, but before he can move, the boy who assisted Morena collapses before them in a bloody heap.

"You okay?" Kurapika grabs him, to Chrollo's impatience.

"It's all a lie," sobs the kid. "Magic isn't real. There's no meaning – why are we even here?"

"Most of life is lie," says Chrollo, hesitating. After all, who's to say this kid is worthless? Not he. He wants to change that part of him. "At least you know what truth isn't, even if you've yet to find it."

Kurapika swallows. "I know it's hard, but … look around you."

The kid shakes his head. His eyes are squeezed shut. "Why? Just kill me."

"Open your eyes, please," Alluka calls.

Intrigued by the girl's voice, the child finally lifts his eyelids.

Creatures made of pure gas, singing the word  _Ai_  over and over, surround the ship. Hundreds, if not thousands of them.

"Just because magic doesn't work how you expected," Kurapika tells him, "doesn't mean it's not real."

 

**Psst I'll be away for a few days this weekend, so the next update may be delayed by a couple days (no more than that).**


	28. Disarmament

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**Disarmament**

Prince Tserriednich throws back his head and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

 _They're here. They have to be._  Beyond's words echo silently throughout the room.

Tserriednich, who has always valued himself for his mind, has been outsmarted. He sees it all now.

"My power grab will not survive Morena's machinations, will it?" He grins at Beyond.

Beyond's eyes meet his. "No; I think not."

"Bollucks!" snaps Theta.

"It isn't." Tserriednich wraps his fingers into a fist. He might as well say everything, before he dies. "And all I wanted was to murder my undeserving siblings. Not power itself."

"No, you always struck me as the sort of man to chase the benefits of power rather than power itself," Beyond begins.

Tserriednich's heart lifts. At least he's better than his vapid, power-seeking siblings.

"As do all who chase power," Beyond finishes. "What? Do you think that those who enjoy power do it for power? What is power but a word? It means different things to different people. Control to satisfy your individual fears? Control to manipulate people into doing what you want, so you can achieve whatever you desire? Power is always a means, whether humans are bright enough to recognize that or not. You happen to be in the former. Congratulations."

"Are you mocking me?" Tserriednich's eyes simmer.  _I am the philosopher, not you, you oaf._

"Lamenting, actually."

"Will you speak so at my funeral? Or cover your words with frivolous formalities? I wonder." Tserriednich's voice drips with bitterness.

Because Beyond is right.

Beyond has out-intellectualized him. Beyond, that hulking, bearded brute.

Beyond, though, is descended from one of the mightiest hunters to ever exist. Beyond is an adventurer, a survivor of life. Why would his mind not match his physique?

Why has Tserriednich thought of people in absolutes – smart and weak, strong and dumb, pretty and simple, ugly and intricate?

"What – what should I do?" Tserriednich speaks slowly. His eyes are unfocused. "If you were to fill your final hours, what would you do?"

"I would make it  _not_  my final hours." Beyond raises an eyebrow. "But I am not you. You would die to learn."

"What should I learn?" Tserriednich inquires.

"The true meaning of leadership. I won't spoil the secret." Beyond strokes his beard. "But I would encourage you to try your best to die for your people. King."

"You won't seriously!" Theta looks ill as Prince Tserriednich glides towards his door without another word.

"I don't know anything." Tserriednich grins. "Though I shall meet his challenge with another: it is not I who shall die for people, but the little girl who brought this horde upon us."

* * *

Queen Unma stalks down the corridor to the armory, with the hulking Franklin and the shrouded Bonolenov, each of the Phantom Troupe, behind her.

Inside the armory, Benjamin's voice rings out. "Men and women of Kakin, this is our moment to end my brother's tyranny and demolish the Phantom Troupe, who has robbed so many of not only their possessions, but also their lives!"

Unma cannot listen further. She motions to Franklin, who uses his nen bullets to shoot through the locked door.

"Surprise, Benny." Unma shakes at the sight of her son. As her and Nasubi's firstborn, of course she always visualized him on the throne. Of course she wanted him to achieve kingship, to rule with a mighty arm.

But not like this.

Not if it means Tserriednich's death.

"Mother." He is flabbergasted by the nickname she used to call him when he was a child, and even more so by her company. "Have they hurt you?!"  
"Not in the least. They're working for me." Unma shakes her head. "Didn't I raise you to know that nothing everlasting is built on lies?"

"And then you had Tserriednich," Benjamin points out.

"I failed both of you." Unma had prepared this line for her sons' funerals, but perhaps – perhaps Oito can keep those horrid events at bay.

"Nonsense," Benjamin says.

"I was too strict with you – I lauded your strength, at the expense of your morality. I lauded Tserriednich's ingenuity, at the expense of his integrity. I failed, and you know better than to change my mind." Unma sighs. "I suppose it's a common occurrence. Failing your second son in the exact opposite manner you failed the first."

"Stop – stop flagellating yourself." Benjamin scowls. "I am going to end Tserriednich's plot, Mother. If you get in the way, I will kill your Spiders."

"That will be difficult," Bonolenov says, his voice disarmingly musical.

"Move." Benjamin gestures to the two dozen heavily armed guards behind him.

"No," Unma says.

"I don't want to, but I will imprison you – for Kakin. You can't see how vile Tserriednich is because he's your son, but he's gone too far." Benjamin's face twists. That's why Mother is here with him, correct, and not with Tserriednich? She must know, deep in her heart. "He's been too far gone for years."

"On the contrary," says a spookily calm voice from behind Benjamin.

"We think no one is too far gone!" A kid with spiky, dark green hair leaps out from behind an empty safe of guns. He's accompanied by an adult with long, silky black hair, who stands behind him. A child with a paper fan leaps out from behind a cannon, ready to attack. A white-haired boy with electricity zapping between his fingertips slides beside the adult.

"Who are you?" Benjamin demands.

"The Zoldycks, and our friend," says the calm adult.

Benjamin chills. Zoldycks? Three of them, and another assassin to boot?

"Minus two siblings," says the boy with the paper fan.

"Though one of them is already cleaning up the deck," adds the pale-haired boy. "There will be no regime for you to overthrow."

Benjamin's heart plummets. "Who hired you?"

"We hired ourselves." The youngest grins.

"I know you care about your guards, like a true king," says Unma softly. "That lesson, at least, I taught well."

Benjamin shudders.

"We suggest you surrender," says the green-haired kid. "We won't hurt any of you."

* * *

"Morena Prudo!" Oito flings aside the door separating her from her target. Morena stands in the stairwell, watching green gas swirl below.

"You must be a fool to chase after me." The younger woman keeps her back to Oito.

"I married Nasubi Hui Guo Rou; my foolishness ought to be unquestionable at this point," Oito says, closing the door to the deck.

Morena turns her head, just slightly, to look at Oito. She's never heard a queen imply anything besides ignorant adoration for their rich husband.

The eighth queen slowly closes the door behind them. "You have his eyes, you know. Though your lashes, I dare say, are superior."

"I'm nothing like him. Though I come from him, and I am glad for that. I'm glad, because it gives me the opportunity to destroy Kakin and all it stands for," says Morena with an eerie smile.

"I regret my former life. I regret everything except my daughter. But I too am grateful for the same chance you have been given: to right a smidge of the wrongness in this vile world." Oito steps closer.

"And how do you plan on that – you who have never suffered?" Morena's scar begins to glow green, like the nen gas she released towards the bottom of the ship.

"My child is currently on the Dark Continent, in the hands of thieves and bodyguards who are hapless against the might of the gaseous Ai. I  _have_  suffered, and I've found that the greatest suffering comes from someone else's suffering." Oito's fury kindles.

"I did not know about your existence until very recently, and I can't right what Nasubi did to your face. I can only seize the throne – myself and the other wives – and hope to god to put a stop to this, once and for all." Oito holds out her hand. "We want you to join us."

Morena raises an eyebrow. For a moment, she does not speak, and Oito dares to hope.

"Your manipulation is strong," Morena says at last.

"I'd rather not use it, but my child's life may hang in the balance," Oito says.

"I don't fault you for using all your tools available. I use mine. Contagion is a masterful manipulation technique to give me human tools." Morena smirks at Oito's distress upon hearing of her power.

"All I want is for my daughter to grow up safe and happy. To be her fullest person. If I have to burn down an empire for her to do that, I'll light the match." Oito's eyes blaze. "Do you understand?"

Morena hesitates.

"We need peace."

"I've neither wished nor planned for peace. Only the chaos to burn it all down. But I admire your idealism." Morena smiles slightly. "So I shall help you."

Oito hardly dares to breathe.

Morena pulls out a dagger from between her breasts.

Before Oito can run, Morena has cut across her own throat.

"Nevertheless – if you and your daughter live through the night, I will rest with peace," Morena manages as her body follows the blood splashing towards the ground.

* * *

"Queen Oito!" Kurapika hurtles through the door. He and Chrollo have listened outside, wary of leaving Oito and Morena alone, wary of interfering with Oito's plan.

Morena, the bastard who sought revenge for injustice of her youth – the bastard with whom Kurapika sees far too much resemblance, the bastard who may have just killed his queen –

But now – they were too late –

Kurapika, in a fit of guilt, feels cold relief when he realizes that Morena is the one stabbed.

And Oito sits beside her, stained with blood, cradling her enemy's pallid body, holding her hand.

She turns her eyes to meet Kurapika's. "I won't let her die alone."

"Fuck you," Morena croaks. Her eyes are unfocused. "I'm killing … all of you."

"I'm sorry," Oito replies tearfully, stroking her hair – just like Morena's mother used to, when she was fevered. "But you just told me to survive."

"But you won't," Morena wheezes. Her gaze falters. Her last breath is an inaudible gasp.

Kurapika bows his head towards Oito, who, in his mind, is a thousand times deserving of the throne.

Chrollo, however, fights past his emotion. He stalks towards the rail and peers down the stairs. "Is she gone?"

"Yes," Oito says, not ceasing her strokes.

"Her nen gas is still around." Chrollo clenches his jaw.

"Nen…hate-filled nen." Kurapika recoils.

He recalls the bargain he made when he cursed Chrollo. Morena – Morena has made the same bargain, has she not?

Morena's gas will strengthen after her death.

"Surely the Ai will stop it?"

"Then why are we waiting here?" Chrollo opens the door again, and Kurapika turns back to Oito. "Stay here, your Highness, until the deck is calm."

"I won't leave her yet," Oito says, almost peaceful herself.

It's enough to fuel Kurapika forward.

* * *

"Alluka! We need all the Ai to get to the lower decks." Kurapika races across the deck. He easily dodges a man's woozy swing.

"Why?" Alluka's eyes widen.

"The user is dead, and it seems her power increases after death." Chrollo gulps.

He remembers the glee he felt using a dead man's power during his match against Hisoka in Heaven's Arena.

He wonders what kind of hate the man must have felt. If he suffered like Morena. And how many suffered as a result of his hate – but no, he knows some of those victims, the ones in the audience. Chrollo made them victims himself.

Alluka turns her eyes black and babbles immediately to the Ai near her.

 _She's intelligent_ , Chrollo thinks. How could anyone have locked her up?

A whirlwind of Ai descend into the stairwell. Turning off the gas has likely already happened with their powers, but healing those affected – all the Ai will have to work quickly.

"I can't help." Alluka looks concerned. "I have to stay and translate. Mr. Chrollo and Mr. Kurapika, will you bring me any sick you can find?"

Chrollo swallows, because he sees another chance, but he no longer wants it – or rather, the consequences –

Kurapika interrupts his thoughts, as usual. "That's inefficient. Chrollo, steal Nanika's nen and return it after everyone is healed. Like you did with Hisoka."

Chrollo's mouth dries. Kurapika trusts him this much?

Because he wants Nanika's power, if he's honest. He still does. But he won't hurt Alluka or Nanika. Because Kurapika would be hurt, too, and besides, he likes the little girl and her Ai.

But Alluka is nodding, as if excited to have Mr. Chrollo use her power.

Chrollo opens his book. His voice comes out raspy. "Can you touch this page and hand me your power?"

"Ai." Nanika emerges and reaches for the page.

Chrollo feels dizzy with the aura surging through him. He feels inhuman, otherworldly, spiritual on a level he's always desired. He can do anything, see anything and everything.

But he's still here, still a human in the midst of a disaster in a foreign land, with a small task before him.

Alluka remains upright, but a smaller figure, an Ai, ebbs from her body to collapse on the deck.

"Nanika!" Alluka shakes her.

_Ai, ai, ai._

"She's fine. Just weak," Alluka translates.

Chrollo nods. He takes off across the deck, with Kurapika on his heels.

Chrollo pauses. "Following me?"

Kurapika smiles slightly. "You'll need a bodyguard, Spider."

* * *

Alluka wipes her eyes. "So many sad people."

"They'll be okay," Nanika says, watching Mr. Chrollo touch a vomiting man. Various areas of the ship glow

"I miss you already," Alluka adds.

"Me too." Nanika smiles, with her wide, dark mouth, and Alluka smiles back.

Is this how normal, material creatures feel? She can only see where she turns her head. She can only breathe what is directly in front of her.

She loves it.

Alluka screams behind her, and Nanika spins back to see the mean Prince holding her up by her hair.

"Let her go!" Nanika cries, but she's helpless. She desperately thinks about what he might want – how can she make him love them? Or at least Alluka?

She doesn't know. "Give me your hair? Pick me up?! Hold me? Pat my head!"

This is what materials do when they love, right?

Nanika tugs on him, but the prince barely acknowledges her, because her cloudy fists barely tickle. "Pick  _me_  up!"

"You brought them here. It's time for you to end – a sacrifice made for the better good." Tserriednich holds out his own Ben's Knife, and Alluka squeals.

Across the deck, Hisoka launches himself out of the wheelhouse.

"Chrollo!" Kurapika shouts, even as he scrambles for Chain Jail.

Kurapika hesitates. Chrollo – he'll hurt Chrollo if he does – Chrollo is more powerful anyways –

A blurred figure dives between the two as Tserriednich's knife lands in what should have been Alluka's chest.

Instead, it's in Beyond Netero's stomach.

"The fuck?!" Chrollo curses, forcing his hands to stay focused on the pregnant woman lying at his feet.

Beyond grins down at Alluka. "I can't let you die yet, kid."

She peers at him with shock, and to Tserriednich's own shock, Beyond peels the knife out of his already-regenerated skin.

"I'm not that easy to kill, Prince. Or did you not know that I survived an extended encounter with this continent for that child?"

Tserriednich opens his mouth to inquire, but his laughter bubbles forth instead.

"Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou." Queen Duazal, flanked by Nobunaga and Shizuku, storms across the deck.

"Hello Stepmother!" he calls brightly. "Was my mother too preoccupied to attend the festivity of chaos on her own?"

"I'm not here because I'm your stepmother, or in place of yours. I'm here because I was Halkenburg's mother, and he loved you like a brother. He would have wanted to do this, so I will in his absence." Duazal shakes her head. "Don't think him a fool, either. He knew everything you did."

"I doubt that."

"He loved you anyways. Because you saw past the materialistic greed of society and sought answers, even if diabolically." Duazal looks Tserriednich up and down. "I see you intend to provoke your own demise here, to avoid humiliation, but Halkenburg would never forgive me if I let you."

"And what will you do? Allow me to kill and slay in my quest for truth under the rule of whichever of my siblings spares me?" Tserriednich sneers.  
"Your siblings aren't ruling, not for now. We queens are." Duazal shrugs. "You've all proven yourself incompetent thus far."

"This isn't a matriarchy!"

"Don't knock if until you've tried it," Hisoka says impudently, inserting himself between Beyond, the prince, and Illumi's siblings Alluka and Nanika.

He can't explain why, but he wants the prince to survive.

Fighting

Provoking.

Searching for an answer, any answer, in the flashes of excitement brought by battles and sex.

Not that Hisoka thinks he's like Tserriednich – of course not – never – but – he would like to see someone trailblaze this path.

Tserriednich opens his mouth to mock – and a dart flies into his forehead.

Everyone spins towards the nearest lifeboat, where Theta crouches, holding a tranquilizing gun. "Thank you for your survival, Tserriednich."

"And thank  _you_  for your betrayal, Theta," Beyond says with a grin, as he catches Tserriednich's collapsing body.

"Anything for Kakin, sir." Theta watches the prince lose consciousness. "And even for him." She pauses. "He'll have to be in constant Zetsu for the rest of his life, or his destructive nen could spell disaster."

"There's two ways to make sure he never uses nen again," Kurapika calls over, holding up his Judgment Chain and eying Chrollo's book.

Chrollo glances towards him. "One is more permanent than another."

"You two deserve each other. Do you know how much I'd love to fight him?" Hisoka taunts, waving around the Bungee Gum leg he's been bearing since his resurrection.

Kurapika nods, ignoring the clown. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Hisoka has to smile. They're almost cute.

Chrollo's eyes turn black as the next page in his book begins to glow with Tserriednich's picture and power. "I have to say, Ai nen is rather convenient for transcending my own rules."


	29. Reclamation

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Reclamation**

The ship is calm come morning, and come the next week, so are its people.

Days of negotiations with the Ai have yielded a repaired  _Black Whale_ , an interspecies allyship, and a new government over Kakin.

The queens will oversee each of the seven provinces of Kakin, and allow more power to the common people as they choose a parliament. More aid will be sent to the poorer classes of Kakin.

As for the princes, Unma has regained custody of her two sons. Their rehabilitation will be a lengthy process, but the loss of their nen provides the first queen with hope. For now, the less power Benjamin and Tserriednich have, the better. Perhaps, she wonders, too much power from birth was detrimental to their development. Perhaps the opposite can save them.

The Ai, meanwhile, have escorted the surviving princes to the Continent, where their Guardian Beasts are freed from their hosts.

Woble waves to hers, and though Oito can't see the Ais' smiles, she feels them. Some princes look relieved; others sad.

Either way, their auras are now free, and their beasts now have their own sustainable auras.

It's good.

Prince Tubeppa and several scientists remain on the continent when the princes return. Their mission is to scout out the Pap threat, with help from the Ai, as well as cultural understanding.

Upon their arrival back in Kakin, the queens have agreed to send assistane to the Ai in their fight against Pap. And they will not broadcast the Ai's vulnerability.

"I think," Queen Oito says as the Ai place her and Woble back on the deck of the  _Black Whale_ , "there's cause to hope future generations won't be punished for their parents' folly."

"I think you'll be a good queen." Phinks has been waiting on deck since the royal family left. Just for her return. He looks at his feet. He smiles down at her.

Oito tosses her head and strides off, Phinks on her heels. She hoists Woble up on her waist. "Actually…that was the last thing we discussed yesterday. Queendom. I'd rather not. I trust the seven wives in my place."

"What are you s-saying?" Phinks stammers.

Oito stops to squint at the shoreline, at her stepdaughter and citizens behind. The yellow sun is just beginning to fade to orange, and the clouds are tinged with the grey of the approaching sunset. "I'm saying I'd rather be with you."

"Huh?" Phink's mouth drops.

"We all know your Troupe won't be murdering willy-nilly after this, anyhow." Oito spins around to wink at him. "I wouldn't let you."

"We're dangerous –"

"More dangerous than Kakin? Woble will experience a family, with people who care for her. She'll grow up seeing people from all over the world, from all kinds of cultures and backgrounds. That's what I want for her." Oito smiles up at him. "She'll learn to appreciate life."

"But we don't." Phinks' voice breaks. He – he's a murderer. A robber. And she's a queen.

"You'll be learning alongside us." Oito holds out her hand. "Am I right?"

"We're poor." Phinks isn't sure where his self-sabotage is coming from. Fear, maybe.

"I can handle poor." Oito steps closer. "And you know I'm intrigued by tattoos."

"Your manipulation would be useful," Phinks admits. Because it's easier to be practical than to tackle feelings.

Oito shields her eyes from the setting sun. "When I met Nasubi, I merely felt flattered that I was important enough to turn the king's head. When I met you, I felt the importance of other people."

Phinks hardly dares to breathe. What else can he say? "I – feel the same way, Oito."

Her name is soft to speak.

Phinks wastes no time scooping Oito and Woble in his arms. He presses his lips against hers, and wonders if this is what he's been searching for his entire life.

* * *

"Miss Nanika." Chrollo Lucilfer has enjoyed his Ai powers for a full week, which was far longer than he expected. But the Ai have been using Alluka's translation services all week, so it made sense to keep Nanika out of Alluka. Though why Nanika couldn't just sleep – or why the Ai seemed disgusted by her 'materialism' – confused him.

And, to be honest, Illumi seems to be enjoying his freed sibling. But now he and the other Zoldycks – including Hisoka, and Gon as an 'honorary brother,' are here to see Alluka and Nanika reunited.

Chrollo turns to the weak Ai clinging to Alluka's hand. He opens his book and tears out the page. "Here you go."

Nanika squeals with delight as she reaches for it.

He gasps as the power leaves him. Kurapika slides an arm around his waist.

Kurapika, who showed no fear when he saw his former enemy endowed with powers far beyond a human's nen. Because Kurapika, somewhere, no longer thinks Chrollo is a villain, and Chrollo craves every instance of reassurance, of forgiveness.

"I'm not that weak as a human," he teases, leaning against Kurapika anyways.

"I know. I wanted an excuse," says Kurapika, his face tinged with pink.

"Me too," Chrollo says slyly, turning Kurapika's face the color of the sunset.

Before them, Alluka smiles serenely as Nanika re-possesses her body.

_Ai, ai, ai, ai._

Black-eyed Nanika gasps, and blue-eyed Alluka emerges again to clap her hands.

"What is happening?" Illumi looks from his sister to the other Ai.

"They're glad I came back, and lived a week as an Ai again," Nanika says quietly, taking over. "So they're going to grant the four people who tried to save me a wish."

"I believe only Beyond succeeded," says Kurapika instantly, glancing towards Chrollo.

Chrollo points to him. He mouths the word 'masochist.'

"Ai like abstract concepts like intent," says Alluka.

"Brother Hisoka? What do you want?" Nanika peers at him.

"Uhhh…" Hisoka is taken aback. Ooh, the possibilities.

"You know what you need," Illumi says matter-of-factly.

"It's not beating Chrollo? Or would that be cheating?" Hisoka taps his chin, drawing glares from the entire Phantom Troupe behind him. Including Illumi.

"Okay, fine." Hisoka removes his texture surprise, showing his missing limbs. Illumi, bless his soul, refuses to help him stand, because he knows Hisoka would hate that. "I'd kinda like four limbs again."

Nanika totters forward and grabs Hisoka. Other Ai join her, and with a burst of energy, Hisoka finds himself whole again.

"Yay," Phinks says sarcastically.

Hisoka stretches his legs. "They're somehow sexier when they're real."

"Don't make the Ai more suspicious of humans and ruin our treaty," scolds Oito.

Ah, yes, the newest Troupe member. Not even tattooed yet. No longer a queen. Hisoka sticks his tongue out at her.

"Mr. Chrollo?" Nanika turns next to the leader of the Spiders.

Chrollo looks thoughtful. This is – not enough time. To decide. And yet, he has to ask. He has to try. "What are the limits of your power?"

"We can't change the past, including bringing back the dead." Nanika smiles.

Sorrow crosses Chrollo's face. He won't be able to save Uvo, Paku, Shalnark, or Kortopi. He won't be able to save Kurapika's clan. Although…at least he won't have to potentially choose between the two.

"Paku would be happy that you so much as thought of them," says Machi.

Chrollo smiles. "She would, wouldn't she?"

That settles it. He turns to Kurapika. "I can't change the past. But I can fix the future."

"What are you talking about?" Kurapika eyes him.

"His specialist state drains hours off his life. Can you restore them?" Chrollo fixes his eyes on Kurapika.

"Don't you dare!" Kurapika shakes his head. He cringes at several accusing looks, from Ai to the Troupe to especially Killua and Gon. "I chose it!"

"You deserve to live a full life, Kurapika." Chrollo stops before finishing the sentence how he really wants to:  _with me_.

"Ai." Nanika waves her hand, and Kurapika feels lighter.

Kurapika doubles over. "Chrollo – you – you are – "

"Your friend? And more." Chrollo lifts Kurapika's face to look into his eyes.

Kurapika's throat hurts with the tears he's holding back. How can he use his wish on himself now?

He's not going to die soon.

How – how does he live from here?

His voice shakes. "Nanika – I want – Melody has been with me since Yorknew City. I want to give Melody her heart's desire."

Melody gasps, and almost immediately, four sheets of parchment appear before her.

"What are those?" Chrollo asks with interest.

"The Sonata of Darkness."

"It's real?" He looks far, far too tempted, and hates himself for it.

But Kurapika's face is accusatory, or disappointed. He understands Chrollo's curiosity, and yet gently holds him back.

In response, Melody yanks aside her sleeve to reveal a rotted, mangled arm. Nobunaga curses as she draws a match and drops it. The parchments ignite, and as they burn, Melody's arm begins to heal.

Her hair grows back across her head in a blaze of grey – a soft grey the color of the sunset clouds above them – and her front teeth begin to shrink.

The curvy, beautiful woman before them is the same height, and wearing the same clothes as her former self, but she looks otherwise transformed.

"Hot damn," Mizaistom mutters. Nobunaga's face flushes.

"Thank you, Kurapika, friend," says Melody with a serene smile. Her voice is as fluid and melancholy as ever. Perhaps more so.

"You don't feel like I cheated your hunt, right?" Kurapika asks nervously.

"It's not cheating to rely on friends," Melody says pointedly, nodding to Chrollo.

He doesn't bother to conceal his smile.

"Now: Beyond." Nanika turns to him at last.

Beyond, at least, seems ready. "I want for nothing, save one thing."

He bends down and whispers in the Zoldyck child's ear.

Alluka pulls back with a gasp. She spins around and around in ecstasy. "We can do it! Like we always planned!"

"What did you plan?" Killua asks with amusement.

Nanika hides her face, but Alluka emerges to grin mischievously.

"To be twins."

Illumi chokes. "What?"

"Nanika likes material people. She fits in with us, not the Ai," Alluka explains.

Nanika glances nervously at Illumi. "Is that…bad?"

Hisoka pokes his husband.

"No," Illumi says, and to his surprise, he means it. "That is very, very good."

"Okay!"

Nanika steps up to a large Ai who drifts towards her. It reaches towards her, and then – suddenly – she's emblazoned in neon swirls and colors, and everyone is silent, waiting to see who emerges.

A child, dressed and looking very much like Alluka, but with her characteristic black eyes and mouth, sits on the deck.

"Nanika!" Alluka hugs her. "At last!"

Nanika laughs. She's never felt joy so right.

She's human. She's really, really human. She has her own body. Her own skin. Her own hair. And Alluka's fashion, because it's cute.

"I have two sisters now," Kalluto says in amazement. He rushes to join Killua, who is already embracing the twins.

"We love Killua and Kalluto!" Nanika squeezes her brothers, before turning to Illumi.

"And Illumi, and Hisoka." Alluka holds out her hand.

Hisoka feels his heart hurt – fuck, are these feelings? Is he happy? He's actually happy?

Illumi is too stunned to move, so Feitan and Machi shove him forward.

The sun sinks below the horizon, and here, watching his friends' joy, with the frightening but beautiful possibility of life before him, Kurapika feels he's found something more precious than Scarlet Eyes.

* * *

"Now, husband, before we sail tomorrow, we're here with a comfortable bed and victory in our hands," Hisoka pulls Illumi into his captain's quarters. He breathes in Illumi's musty, salty scent.

Illumi laughs.

Illumi – laughing. And not that fake, anxiety-riddled 'haw-haw-haw' he usually gives. He's laughing with happiness.

Hisoka has never heard this, and he's not sure Illumi has, either.

He locks the door behind them and wraps his arms around Illumi's slender chest.

"I'm glad you're whole again," Illumi says, nudging Hisoka's foot with his own.

"Oh? Get ready," Hisoka teases, nibbling Illumi's neck.

Illumi shudders at the pleasant sensation of Hisoka's teeth on him. He arches his neck instinctually.

Hisoka feels a firebolt shoot through him. Just at the sight of Illumi happy.

Is he, Hisoka, happy? Has he ever been?

No, he decides, sinking his teeth into Illumi. But maybe someday he will be.

Hisoka lays Illumi across the bed like he's a treasure, and perhaps he is. It's high time someone treated Illumi well, after all.

"Hisoka," Illumi whimpers, already enraptured.

A knock at their door barely bothers him.

"Damn," Hisoka says. Illumi's pants are in his mouth.

Illumi pulls his pants back up and opens the door, like a proper adult. Nothing is wrong; for once, everything is perfect, and he is loved, and everyone is loved, and he wants to feel this way forever. "Killua?"

"Nanika and Alluka want a bedtime story," Killua says, his eyes flitting to and fro to evade Hisoka and their messy bed.

"A story?" Illumi hasn't told bedtime stories in a long, long time. Usually they incorporated some kind of battle attack, or surreptitious information about nen.

He briefly wonders if Killua's lightning was inspired by his thunder story.

"Yours used to be pretty good." Killua smirks as he walks away, and Illumi realizes the answer must be yes.

Illumi is torn. "Just a second."

"Go on, Illumi. I'll be waiting." Hisoka winks. Until they return from the Continent, Illumi is his one mission. Hisoka is not a patient man, but he can be patient to enhance Illumi's pleasure.

After this, their next mission will be to discover what Beyond seems to know about Nanika. But that can wait, Hisoka thinks as he flops back onto his bed.

* * *

"Even if there are no good people, you are one," Chrollo says whimsically, reaching over to brush his knuckles against Kurapika's cheek.

Kurapika laughs. He sounds lighter than he has in years. Like bells. "Maybe we're all good. Flailing about and losing our way to be good."

They lie in Chrollo's room, in the same room they first made love. Although this time they sprawl across the floor.

Kurapika had barely entered the room before he'd opened his mouth to ask  _why_ , to demand why Chrollo would waste a wish on him. To ask why, in that moment, Chrollo was purely good to someone who didn't deserve it.

And Chrollo had met him with that shy smile, and undressed Kurapika right there. They'd only begun to speak once their muscles were soaring with release, their hair tangled and their skin messy with sweat and fluids.

"Murdering your clan, the auction…many of those actions had nothing good in them." Chrollo wonders.

He did wish to strike back at the mafia who so extorted Meteor City. Was that good? Was a quest for beauty enough against the screams of mangled families?

Was he good, and his actions dark and hopelessly diseased?

Or, more likely, is he dark and hopelessly sinful, and perhaps reaching back for ablution.

Why? He asks himself. Why did he slaughter all the Kurtas? How could eyes have captured him until he extincted them?

"I don't know who I am," he concludes.

Kurapika cocks his head.

"I'm scared," Chrollo says at length. "I'm scared to find myself, because I don't know what I'll find."

"I think I do." Kurapika's hand grips Chrollo's knee. "I think that you – and I – are the same as Morena Prudo. We're just thieves trying to atone for the sin of being born outcasts. And now, to atone for our atonement."

"Morena didn't achieve hers," Chrollo muses.

"No, but still, I saw myself in her. She wanted to destroy the family who hurt her, and so did I. And Nasubi was cruel, and so were the Spiders, and they were wrong. You were wrong. And yet…so was I, and so was Morena. vengeance against people hasn't really helped. I felt empty after killing Uvogin, and I felt worse when I  _failed_  to kill you." Kurapika pushes back a strand of hair. His face is pink, and he can't quite meet Chrollo's eyes.

"But in the end – even though she was too deep to forsake her plan – she wished Oito well. And vengeance did not have the day. And it was better that way." Kurapika swallows the lump growing in his throat. "That gives me hope. For me, and for you."

"I wasn't nearly the outcast a Kurta and a bastard were," Chrollo counters.

"Meteor City is its own scar, isn't it?" Kurapika looks at him, and he sees him, he really sees Chrollo and through Chrollo and Chrollo distilled to his purest essence.

And it's terrifying, and beautiful, and Chrollo realizes that they're going to be discussing this – their history – for a long time to come. Perhaps the only path forward is though the past.

He's okay with that.

"Don't give up on me," Chrollo says.

"Never." Kurapika smiles impishly. "Did you not see me hesitate to use Chain Jail to save Alluka? It's a start, and it's all you."

"Oh, a  _hesitation_ ," Chollo says sarcastically.

"I said it was a  _start_." Kurapika makes a face.

Chrollo tickles him briefly. "It's not all me. You have good friends, too."

"So do you."

Chrollo's eyes soften – Kurapika's response is immediate. It is true. The Chain Dude no longer views the spiders with hate, or discomfort. Just as if they are other humans faltering through life.

"I'm surprised you didn't wish for me not to use Chain Jail," Kurapika says with a shake of his head. Is that self-centered? He knows Chrollo has much to wish for.

"I wasn't sure you could couple wishes together. And I…want to leave the choice – the choice to stay alive, the choice not to sacrifice yourself upon some proclaimed altar of vengeance – to you." Chrollo meets his eyes. "I can give you back the years you've stolen, but you deserve to choose to live."

Red bleeds into Kurapika's eyes. "So do you."

* * *

"Good night, Alluka, Nanika, Killua, and Kalluto. And Gon." Illumi waves to his siblings.

They all let him kiss their foreheads. Well, except Gon, but then Gon is a 'surrogate sibling,' not a real one.

But still! They let him kiss their foreheads! Delight sparkles through his body.

He turns back to the cabin he shares with Hisoka. He can experience not only two months of familial love, but marital bliss while they return to Kakin.

Like a honeymoon. Which is kind of like the vacation Milluki spoke of. The vacation Illumi forced himself to scoff at.

Illumi smiles to himself. He feels different, and he – he likes this change.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a flash to the side of the ship facing the sea.

Illumi peers over the rail. Is there lightning? He can send a text to Killua. An inside joke, the kind of joke he's never shared in before.

"Illumi-kun."

Illumi turns around to see Silva, Zeno, and a flying ship with the face of Tsubone.


	30. Fight and Flight

**Chapter Thirty**

**Fight and Flight**

Kurapika barely registers the open door, or the golden incandescent light interrupted by two distinctive shadows. He's at peace, curled up on the floor, his face buried in Chrollo's shoulder, Chrollo's scent in his nostrils.

They've a disheveled heap on the floor, though a bed looms less than a meter from their bodies, and Kurapika doesn't want to move, to break this night.

Chrollo, however, jolts awake. His tension is immediately palpable and paralyzing. He scrambles to sit up as Kurapika wipes sleep out of his eyes.

Kurapika clamors to his feet before his mind has even comprehended the figures standing in the doorway.

"You," he blurts.

He knows them.

The two Zoldyck assassins from Yorknew. Killua's father and grandfather.

The hulking figure of Silva, Killua's father, one glowers at Kurapika, though the smaller elder seems almost amused at the half-dressed duo.

"It seems an assassin fell victim to his prey," Zeno says.

Both are bare-chested and covered in love bruises. Their pants are rumpled.

There's no denying that the infamous Chrollo Lucilfer, Leader of the Phantom Troupe, cares about someone.

Kurapika colors as he squares his shoulders to resist his urge to shrink away in embarrassment. "Yorknew was a long time ago. Alliances changed."

Chrollo realizes, with some surprise, how they must have met before.

He's at once grateful that Kurapika never met him during Uvo's requiem, grateful to not have killed him, uneasy for the deaths he caused, and furious at the Zoldycks for appearing now, at all times.

"What are you doing here? We'd have returned soon enough." Chrollo raises an eyebrow, as if he isn't sick at their presence.

Because the last time he showed Silva Zoldyck he cared about someone, Tybalt wound up missing half his throat. Dead before Chrollo could even say goodbye.

_You'll be okay. I'll defend you._

But he failed. And he will never forgive Silva for murdering that kid.

"We have a mission," Silva says.

"Undoubtedly. To kill me, again? Need I remind you that two of your sons have joined us?" Chrollo watches them carefully. They could spring into action at any time.

"Don't be a narcissist, brat. Lucky for you, you're only a bonus this time," Zeno says.

Chrollo catches his breath.

Kurapika's eyes swim with crimson as understanding dawns on him.

Who did he cross? Whose fingers did he break, who did he threaten to the point that they hired a Zoldyck?

Has he buried himself so deep that even Nanika's power cannot keep him alive?

"You won't get him." Chrollo throws one arm in front of Kurapika. The other holds Bandit's Secret.

 _We can't kill them_ , Kurapika thinks dully.  _He's Killua's father_.  _I went to his house._

"Not him. His eyes, which he's done a marvelous job of confirming for us," Zeno says.

 _I'm a thing again_. Kurapika's heart aches. No matter if he's changed Chrollo's mind. To most people, he's still a thing.

"Your client will have to be disappointed." Chrollo manifests Tserriednich's decay, but Zeno's dragon lance shoots forward.

Kurapika dodges shards of the dragon as Chrollo destroys it. He doesn't want to use Emperor Time after today – but – short life is better than none.

How does he fight if he can't hurt himself?

Why did he make all of his abilities hurt himself?

He doesn't know – he has to save Chrollo – Chrollo can't be harmed – but it seems Chrollo is harmed when Kurapika harms himself –

Silva frowns at the young man's hesitation. Why isn't he using nen? Something else is occupying his thoughts.

Two people who care about each other are always the hardest targets.

As Chrollo sends Zeno's dragon head smashing into the wall besides them, flute music floats into his ears. Music from above.

Melody!

He gasps with relief and, with a smirk, directs his own decay into the wall to crumble it faster.

"What are you doing?!" Kurapika knocks Chrollo out of another aura blast, and immediately presses Holy Chain to his bruised head.

Chrollo shoves Kurapika away from the men, as he uses teleportation to send them flying down the hall, into the staircase. He disintegrates the door handle until it sticks, but it won't be long before the Zoldycks break through.

They won't both escape from this tiny stairwell. "Get out of here."

"Without you? Like hell I will." Kurapika's eyes rage scarlet.

"You're the one they want. I'm just a bounty, or a useful hostage, if you recall." Chrollo can't believe he thinks himself worthy enough to be a hostage. But Kurapika thought that of him, a long time ago.

He can use that.

Kurapika will not become Tybalt. Chrollo's throat dries.

"Kurapika." Chrollo grabs Kura's head and yanks his lips to his as he directs Indoor Fish to guard the door outside. "Go."

"No chance in –"

Chrollo snaps his fingers, and Kurapika teleports to strike his head on the wall up the stairs.

Kurapika collapses as the door flies open. He's caught by Melody's arms.

"Thank you, Melody." Chrollo motions her away and faces the door.

She nods and drags the unconscious Kurta away.

 _Just buy them enough time to free Kura._  Chrollo smiles lightly as the door up the stairs closes behind them. He readies himself by leaning casually against the wall.

The door he melted explodes, and Chrollo forces a smile. "Now. Gentlemen, would you like to see how a Class A bounty fights when he's trying to kill you?"

* * *

Where is Illumi? Hisoka is becoming very impatient – as pleased as he is that Illumi has rekindled his relationships with his siblings – when a text from Melody, of all people, cross his phone.

_Zoldyck elders aboard; Chrollo trying to hold them off_

_They seem to want Kurapika_

_Your husband isn't answering_

Hisoka wrinkles his forehead.  _You're joking, right_? ⤜( º ▾ º )⤏

 _Do I ever_?

Hisoka curses. How? How are the Zoldyck parents aboard?

He can't call Melody, because presumably she's listening to whatever fight Chrollo is involved in – ooh, that would be magnificent to see, but there's no time – wait, when has he started prioritizing Illumi over himself? – so he grabs his phone and dials Illumi.

No answer.

Rolling his eyes, he tries again. This time, Illumi's phone turns off.

Hisoka feels a dull burning in his stomach. Is that fear? Maybe just worry. Either way, he's certain that something is very, very wrong.

* * *

Chrollo teleports up several flights of stairs to avoid a blast from Silva. If only he could get close enough to use Convert Hands, or Sun and Moon – but then Illumi and Kalluto would be devastated –

Fuck. Is he really not trying to kill them, despite his declaration? Chrollo curses himself.

No, he realizes. He doesn't want to. But he will. Because unless they die, Kurapika will. And Chrollo will not let Kurapika die.

The door opens behind him. Chrollo whirls around to see –

Illumi, whose eyes for a moment plead with him, with a desperation he's only seen in people he's killed before, before returning to their stoic state.

"They approved the deal. Kil's friend is safe for now." Illumi nods before sending a needle towards Chrollo.

Chrollo ducks, but an aura orb from Silva, sent at the same time as Illumi spoke, as Illumi gave him hope, sends all of them crashing down the stairwell.

* * *

"Is this your idea of a practical joke, clown?" Kalluto demands. A dark with Hisoka's signature gelled hair slides open their door.

"Do you ever sleep, kid?" Hisoka tosses back.

Killua stirs. He and Gon have their arms wrapped around each other, and if it weren't a potential emergency, Hisoka would send a picture back to taunt Illumi.

"What's wrong, Big Brother Hisoka?" Nanika rubs her eyes as she shakes Alluka awake.

"I don't know."

"But something is. Where's Illumi, for starters?" Killua jumps out of bed.

Hisoka throws his phone to Gon, who leans over to read the texts with Killua.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Killua exclaims. "Father  _and_  Grandpa?"

"Will they be okay with Nanika?" Alluka asks.

"We won't let anything happen to you," Kalluto says, hurrying to his sisters' side.

"I take it Illumi's gone missing." Killua glances towards Hisoka, who does his best to diffuse the tension with a failed smirk.

"He wouldn't. He's changed, right?" Gon grabs Killua's arm.

"I …" Killua trails off. He had just barely, barely begun to like Illumi again. He'd barely begun to hope for him. "I don't know."

"Then let's find him and find out," Hisoka says crisply.

"Kalluto, can you bring Alluka and Nanika to Feitan and Machi's room? As a guard?" Killua asks.

"Nanika can help find Illumi." Alluka sticks out her tongue. "Get over it."

Nanika nods with excitement. She's useful! "Oh…he's with your dad and granddad…and Mr. Chrollo."

Kalluto opens his paper dolls, and the resulting conversation silences every single listener.

* * *

 

"The little brat's gotten even stronger," Zeno remarks, standing over Chrollo's panting form.

 _Kurapika…will be safe…for now_.

Illumi grabs Chrollo by his collar. "In exchange, they want this one alive."

His eyes look hollow, and Chrollo tries to muster any faith he has left in his spiders. There's no way Illumi would betray them willingly.

Chrollo is dragged to his feet before Silva. Illumi restrains Chrollo's wrists behind him as Chrollo summons a chuckle. "You must be very angry you can't kill me."

"Illumi asked us to spare your life, and we shall," says Silva, yanking back Chrollo's hair so he can peer into his hateful eyes. "For now. The rest will be up to the mafia."

"You and I both know what they'll choose." Chrollo keeps his face expressionless.

"You gave yourself up for your Kurta catamite. I'm sure you have more surprises in store," Silva replies. He knees Chrollo between his thighs, and Chrollo fights to keep himself from vomiting at the resulting pain – or the insinuation.

Chrollo's eyes simmer.  _You'll never get him_.

He couldn't save his family from the Zoldycks previously, but he will now.

"We should get him to the ship," Illumi says. His fingernails dig into Chrollo, but his dutiful son mask – if it is a mask – never wavers.

* * *

"Stop!"

A shout rings out as Silva shoves Chrollo onto the odd-looking airplane. Chrollo glances behind him to see Killua, Kalluto, and Nanika racing towards them. Illumi's fingers tighten on his wrists.

"Illumi!" Killua doubles over, screaming. "Why?"

"For our family; what else?" Illumi's eyes plead with his.

_Please._

_Please recognize me_.

Kalluto stiffens. Illumi looks wrong, though he's not sure how.

Illumi should backtrack. Illumi should laugh and explain why he's doing the right thing.

But Illumi just stares instead.

"Why are you taking our leader?" Kalluto asks instead, determined to find more information. "He's like second family."

But Killua cuts him off. He looks nauseated. "Was everything a lie?"

"I don't lie to family," Illumi says.

"Oh, but Alluka and Nanika aren't family, am I right?" Killua seethes.

Nanika's eyes well up, though Killua wraps an arm around her.

She's already been forced to leave Alluka behind, with Gon, in their locked cabin. Because the Zoldycks parents might reject her.

But Illumi had just accepted her. She doesn't understand.

Killua's heart races. He could ask Nanika to stop everyone. But he – he wants Illumi to stop this – he wants Illumi to have really changed –

"I hate you!" Killua screams in defeat. "Was everything a lie?!"

"Killua," Silva says sternly. His hand grabs Illumi by his shoulder. "Your brother is doing his duty, knowing his place – as you will someday learn."

"I won't!" Killua wipes his eyes. "Assassinating people – you're all evil!"

"But a thief isn't?" Zeno tightens Chrollo's restraints.

"Now just a minute." A razor-sharp card appears at Zeno's throat.

Hisoka springs into the midst, waving more cards with his Bungee Gum. Something tells him he should not reveal himself as Ilumi's husband, or they could all die right here. Fortunately for the old geezer, Hisoka has nothing against him.

If he had Silva in his hands, he would have cut through without hesitation and called it justice.

Illumi turns his back to Hisoka. "You're a fool."

Chrollo's heart pounds. Nanika should not have to kill her semi-father and grandfather. And if Hisoka does, then the mafia rescind on their deal. They will just send another Zoldyck, another member of Illumi and Kalluto's family, to kill Kurapika.

"Number Four," Chrollo says.

"Danchou?" Kalluto can't believe that, of everyone present, Danchou is talking to him.

He has to speak the next words. But it's not the same as before – it's not that he devalues his life. It's that he values Kurapika. "Let us go."

* * *

"Where's Chrollo?!" Kurapika awakens in a panic to Melody dragging his limp body by his wrists.

She shakes her head. "From what little I heard, Illumi made a deal – Chrollo, captured, for your life."

"I have to find him!" Kurapika wrenches himself free.

"You're too weak – get back here!" Melody chases after her disaster friend as he scrambles to stairwell.

His heart stops. It's obliterated, but there are no bodies to be found.

Melody gasps for breath behind him. Why is he like this? "There's something happening outside."

Kurapika dashes back into the hall. He's going to find the nearest functional stairwell – he's not going to leave Chrollo alone – he's not losing more family because of his Scarlet Eyes.

"Stop!" Melody shouts, with an authority that startles Kurapika.

He obeys, and follows her finger to the nearest window.

A small plane – or something like it – flies away.

Kurapika can't make out the people, but he feels it. Chrollo is with them.

He doubles over again. "Melody."

"I know," she says quietly.

"I'm – I'm tired of my friends sacrificing themselves for me." Kurapika sets his jaw. "If he wasn't killed, there's a reason. We're going to get him back before they kill him."

He stalks off in the midst of his sentence. His heart drums the reason in his ear –  _the mafia, the mafia, the mafia_. They'll make him suffer worse than death. Like Neon.

"Where are you going?!" Melody chases after him.

"Rallying help." Kurapika begins to feel dizzy again; Chrollo must have given him a concussion to ensure he wouldn't interfere.  _Not gonna stop me, asshole._

He'll use Holy Chain when he's finished this part of the mission. Right now, he won't stop for anything, even healing.

Melody begrudgingly follows Kurapika to the nearest Phantom Troupe quarters.

The door opens.

"What do you want?" Phinks – surprisingly sans Oito, looks up from the bunk he shares with Nobunada.

Kurapika stumbles forward. He's so weak; he's not sure he can stop them should they decide to kill him. But he has to try, for Chrollo.

"Kurapika?" Alarm crosses Nobunaga's face. "What are you doing sneaking up on us, Chain Bastard?"

Kurapika falls forward into the light, on his hands and knees.

Phinks stiffens. The Chain Bastard's lip is split, his eyes swollen and bruised. "Where is Danchou?"

Kurapika wants to scream  _he's gone, he's gone, he's been taken and please don't blame Illumi,_  but he can't allow them even a fraction of a second to get the wrong idea. "He needs help."


	31. Illumination

**Chapter Thirty-One**

**Illumination**

"What do you mean 'needs help?'" Phinks, with a surge of fear, hoists Kurapika up by his hair. What has this pretty, bare-chested, bleeding twerp done now?

He ought to have told Oito the entire truth about her bodyguard, instead of kindly declining, instead of allowing Kurapika to decide when to tell her. He shouldn't have trusted Danchou's character assessment.

Tears spill down Kurapika's face.

He's done this. He caused the Troupe to hate him. And now Chrollo might pay if they can't cooperate in his absence.

"He's fucking crying?!" Phinks drops him.

"Phinks." Melody reaches the room, gasping for breath. "I thought you were learning to run a little slower to your destruction, Kurapika."

Kurapika winces.

"What happened?" Phinks demands.

"You're going to need to call Oito and the entire troupe." Melody's voice falls. "Except Illumi."

"What do you mean?" Nobunaga grips his sword. Is Illumi hurt?

"The Zoldycks – Silva and Zeno – attacked. Chrollo's been captured," Kurapika blurts out.

The room goes silent.

"And you, what, ran?" Phinks finally growls.

"Phinks, think. Since when has that been his style?" Nobunaga presses his sword into Kurapika's throat. "Did you orchestrate this?"

Melody scowls at all of these manchildren.

"No," Kurapika snaps. His eyes glow scarlet. "I just want him alive. Why else would I be here?"

"Kurapika was the target," Melody says, laying her hand on Nobunaga's sword. "Your Danchou turned himself in and knocked Kurapika unconscious to save him. Would you really kill the person he sacrificed himself for?"

Nobunaga sputters.

"Speaking of – Kurapika, if you don't use Holy Chain to heal that concussion, you're not going to be able to help the man you love," Melody adds.

Kurapika is unsettled.  _Loves_?

Does he? How can she think that – is it in his heartbeat?

He loves Chrollo?

"It's not your heart; it's how you've changed," Melody says gently.

Nobunaga grimaces. Danchou has changed, too – does that mean they both love each other? Like Phinks and Oito?

"Why wouldn't Danchou just defeat them? We all know he could," says Phinks.

Melody sighs as frantic texts from Kalluto appear on Phinks and Nobunaga's phones. "That concerns Illumi."

* * *

A nen-powered motor is a fascinating Hatsu ability. Under different circumstances, to be honest, Chrollo would crave it.

But right now, he can't hope to even borrow such a power. He's been injected with some serum that's erased all aura. He's chained to a wall.

He's been in a situation like this before, when Kurapika captured him. Back then he was utterly calm.

Back then he had Neon's fortune. He no longer has it, because taking her fortune Hatsu led to her death.

Chrollo has the terrible suspicion that all the destruction he's wrought is about to collapse atop him. His dreams with Kurapika are just that, dreams.

Perhaps Kurapika was right, back when they first slept together, even when Kurapika thought he was speaking lies.

Perhaps Chrollo is just a murderer.

Chrollo shivers. He hates this. He hates these thoughts. He hates knowing himself, because it's easier to remain calm when you're ignorant.

He hates that he wants to live, and that he knows he wants in life.  _Kurapika_.

Attachments always were his weakness, weren't they? First his Spiders – no, first was his mother. Then his Spiders, until Tybalt crossed the wrong mafia don, and Silva was dispatched to kill a fifteen-year-old kid, and Chrollo's world burned again because he felt attached to Tybalt.

He hadn't mourned when Omokage was replaced by Hisoka, because the clown's antics were troubling, yet amusing, and because Omokage was still alive.

But then Uvogin had died, and Pakunoda, all because he hadn't found Kurapika first, all because he had trusted Hisoka. Because he'd cared about Hisoka.

Still, Chrollo is glad he didn't find Kurapika first. He's glad he got to love Kurapika. But…Paku and Uvo…deserved better.

But damned if love, damned if attachment to others makes death difficult to accept.

The door to his cramped cabin opens.

Illumi enters with silent footsteps. He holds out a plain white shirt. "Can I trust you to put this on without attacking me?"

"You know I won't run." Chrollo waits as Illumi frees his bonds. He quickly dons the shirt – it's best that as few people as possible see the bruises Kurapika gave him just last night, or the spider tattoo marked  _0_  over his heart.

Both men's eyes rake each other. Chrollo's seek reassurance, Illumi's trust.

Just before he leaves, Illumi pokes his own chest, right over his heart.

Because he's the second spider with a tattoo over his heart. Marked  _11_. Uvo's number.

Through the fabric, Chrollo spies that the ink is still there.

Illumi leaves the room as quickly as he can.

* * *

"Illumi  _wouldn't_. He's not me," Hisoka says coldly. He crosses his arms and glowers at all of them.

"Full offense, but I don't think you and Illumi are experts in communication," Machi says calmly.

Hisoka curses to himself.  _Illumi, why didn't you make more friends?_

"What you think, Kalluto?" Feitan turns towards him.

"I don't know," says Kalluto at last. "He seemed more tense."

"Great, he has a conflicting emotions. That doesn't mean he didn't betray us," Nobunaga says.

"Nobunaga. If Danchou let Illumi take him, he must have had some sort of faith in him," Franklin points out.

"Danchou had faith in Hisoka, too," Nobunaga says.

"Oh, who hurt you so poorly all you can ever see is treason?" Hisoka snaps.

Eight pairs of Spider eyes stare back at him.

_Oh. Right._

"Point taken," he murmurs, face paling.

"It wasn't just Hisoka." Kurapika clenches his fists. "Nobunaga, I would have gained the opportunity to kill some of the Spiders regardless. Don't pin Uvogin's death on him."

"Do you regret it?" Nobunaga spits. "Or was this all your plan, with Illumi? Did you hire him?"

Kurapika's eyes widen. He looks sick.

Because it's only natural that Nobunaga would assume so.

"He wouldn't," Leorio says firmly, putting his arm around Kurapika.

"I know him, too." Killua joins Leorio and Kurapika. "Killing the Troupe was completely within his character. Seducing your leader for revenge is not."

"His heart is good," Melody says.

"We didn't need Melody to tell us that," Gon says quietly, and Kurapika fights back tears.

He doesn't deserve their faith.

But he's going to take it, and use it, no matter  _deserve_. Because he's going to save Chrollo.

"Phinks, you've been quiet," Shizuku observes.

"I'm waiting to see what she thinks. She knows the Chain Bastard better than many of us." Phinks nods towards Oito, who smiles at him.

"I believe in Kurapika. And I believe in Illumi. I don't know what their plan is, but it's never as it appears, is it?" Oito shrugs. "Let's rescue Chrollo Lucilfer."

"Well then," says Bonolenov, impressed at the nods in the room, " "this is much more congenial than his last kidnapping."

"Last?" Oito raises her eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Feitan points to Kurapika.

She snorts. "That answers many questions, I suppose."

Kurapika bites his lip, but Oito winks at him. She doesn't think less of him for attempting revenge – though she must wonder what stopped him.

Oito clasps her hands. "Well, the first thing we'll need is to know where they're headed. The second is how to get there."

"I can track their ship," says Nanika, waving her hand. "And get us there."

"We can't just leap aboard a ship with no knowledge," Machi says nervously. She hates, she fucking hates, that she feels unwilling to risk the baby growing inside her.

Kalluto licks his lips. He – he has Paper Dolls – he could – he could listen in – but what will he hear? Will he damn Illumi?

Will he ever believe Illumi is not under duress?

Will he lose Machi and Feitan?

"Good." Killua ruffles Nanika's hair.

Alluka looks lost. "I want to be useful…"

"You're going to help me." Kalluto, desperate for a sibling's love, makes his decision. He holds out his Paper Dolls. "Let's listen to what they're saying."

* * *

Silva Zoldyck opens the door to Chrollo's room and huffs at the shirt his wayward son obviously gave his colleague. His wayward son who is so obviously trying to pretend he's not changed. "I'd like you to know: you're the one person whose assassination I would decline."

Chrollo ignores him. He chooses to focus on the floor instead.

His hands are pushing Tybalt's bangs back from his head.  _You'll be okay, I promise._

_I'll save you._

He will never forgive Silva for causing him to break his promise. He will never forgive himself for being so weak.

"But I suspect you'd rather I decline the assassinations of those you care about," Silva continues. "In another life, you could have been a good assassin yourself. If you had ever escaped Meteor City."

Chrollo raises his eyes.

"But that's the thing, isn't it? The inhabitants of Meteor City never escape." Silva looks grim. It's why his family Is falling apart; it's why Killua's chased his rebellion and his eldest, most reliable son might have committed worse. As a precaution, it's even why their butlers are rarely allowed relationships.

"What do you know of squalor and suffering?" Chrollo asks.

"More than you'd think." Silva strengthens his resolve. He focuses on the reason he came in here – it's certainly not to discuss philosophy. "After that brat, I told my children never to take a job against a member of the Phantom Troupe."

Chrollo remains silent. Tybalt was indeed a brat, but he was the best kind of brat. A little brother, almost.

"And I'm sure that's precisely why Kalluto ran off to join you. And then Illumi."

"Do you blame me for your failures in parenting?" Chrollo can't resist asking.

"I blame Meteor City, not you." Silva shrugs. "I have no desire to kill you. Fortunately, the mafia hasn't requested that."

"And they've rescinded their hit on the Kurta?" Chrollo demands.

"For now." Silva lets the silence fill in the rest.

When this is over – when Chrollo is dead – then they will come for Kurapika again.

And Chrollo will have died for nothing.

Chrollo swallows. He never much cared about dying in vain before;  _why_  is now any different?

Illumi will save Kurapika. He knows that much.

"Kalluto may be loyal to you, but he will return. He's a Zoldyck. We remain, while nameless, makeshift families like yours disintegrate. Because we train. We prepare. We don't live for ourselves. We live for our job." Silva tilts his head. "Your thefts are merely for yourselves, aren't they? You have nothing greater in your life."

The Spiders are a family. They might not share a name, but they are. Chrollo scowls.

Silva turns to leave. "Though now, I think, now that Kalluto's been reminded of our family, he will return."

"You're mad," Chrollo says as the door closes.

Silva passes Illumi, who waits with an expectant expression.

_"_ _Father! And Grandfather. Did you use Rider's High all this way?" Illumi blinks. Damn, they could have used them a week ago._

_"_ _Our ship is anchored a few miles away, undetectable."_

"Where are we headed?" Illumi asks lightly. He can tell from the sun's position that they are headed due west, towards home. The mafia headquarters ought to be northwest.

"Dropping off the cargo," Silva says, not revealing the name. Just in case Kalluto is listening. "We should be home in an hour."

A two-month journey, boiled down to a few hours. This is the power of the Zoldyck family.

Illumi realizes the reason for his father's evasion. Best to not to press, best not to bring up that they're undoubtedly headed home. Best to play along with family so that they trust him. "Ah, it will be good to be home afterwards."

_"_ _The Kurta?" Illumi's blood runs cold. Killua would hate their family forever. He'd never be able to live happily with Mother, Father, Hisoka and the rest._

_"_ _I think that's likely to start a war with the Phantom Troupe," Illumi says next. He holds up his finger. "And upset Killu – Kil."_

_His mind spins. He has to save Kurapika, and keep Father and Grandfather from finding out about his marriage. Lest Hisoka lose his head._

_He has to make them go away._

_"_ _What do you suggest, then, Illumi?" Zeno eyes his grandson, with the respect Illumi knows he'd lose should they know he married a man borne amongst the scum of Meteor City._

_"_ _Allow me to make a few phone calls." Illumi knows he can do this. He can offer Chrollo instead of Kurapika to mitigate Killua's wrath. Father will never cross paths with Hisoka. And then he can save Chrollo as soon as he kills the mafia who've ordered this hit._

_It's murder, not assassination, that Illumi will commit, but it's for his family. For Killua and Kalluto, and Hisoka, and maybe for Chrollo and Kurapika, too._

_Maybe he doesn't mind straying from the path of an assassin for friends anymore._

* * *

"Can you take us all back to the Zoldyck home?" Oito inquires of the Ai.

The seven queens and several representative Ai have gathered back aboard the Black Whale for an emergency conference. "So that Nanika doesn't use too much nen."

Kalluto's heart pounds. He hopes he's right; he hopes Illumi was hinting.

_Ai._

"They say yes," Alluka announces.

"They're not the only ones." Killua enters the room to wave his phone about. "I've called our friend in Yorknew – Zepile agreed to keep an eye on the mafia headquarters. Palm, Ikalgo and Meleoron are headed to Kukoroo Mountain; Kuckle, Shoot, Knov and Morel for Meteor City."

He throws Alluka and Nanika a smile. "You'll like Palm. She's got two natures, like you used to."

Nanika nods with excitement; Alluka looks more hesitant. She feels…un-special now. Her only ability left is translation.

"I'm coming, too. You need more than a medical student," Cheadle declares.

"Hey, appreciate me!" Leorio stomps his foot.

"I do," Cheadle says. "But I'm still coming."

"Oito, are you taking your child?" inquires Unma.

She hesitates. She wasn't counting on danger so soon, and from the Zoldyck family.

"We keep her safe, too," Feitan says. A good chance to practice child-rearing, right?

Oito nods nervously.

"How many are we?" Alluka counts. Nine troupe members, counting Oito, Woble, Hisoka, Melody, Kurapika, Killua, Gon, Leorio, Cheadle…plus her and Nanika.

"You'll have to add one more." The door opens, and Beyond Netero enters. "It's high time I told you the truth."


	32. Telling Truths

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

**Telling Truths**

"You are your father's son." Cheadle peers at Beyond.

"I'm not sure that's a compliment," he admits.

"Neither am I." Cheadle shrugs.

"What is the truth?" Hisoka demands. "What do you know about Alluka and Nanika – my  _sisters_ -in-law?"

His face warms at the phrase, but it's worth looking like he cares. Because Nanika and Alluka clasp each other's hands in delight. They like him. And Illumi would be happy that he considers them family.

"You caught that, no?" Beyond sighs. "You're insightful after all, clown."

Phinks snorts at  _after all_ , and Hisoka sticks out his tongue.

"Mature," Leorio says dryly. He can't resist taking advantage of the fact that Hisoka is definitely not going to kill him here. He just has to tease him. He has to!

Beyond looks at the ceiling. "It began before I was born. My father's trip to the dark continent with Zzigg Zoldyck."

"Great-grandfather?" Kalluto frowns. He never met him, but Killua has described an eccentric man whom Illumi always kept away from his siblings.

"I imagine so. He was a good friend of my father's." Beyond sighs. "Their party came across the Ai once more. They were seeking enlightenment, or so they said."

 _Ai_! Several Ai respond with furor.  _Ai! Ai!_

"They say you were seeking excitement and fights," says Alluka, crossing her arms.

"Most likely." Beyond shrugs. "That would be my father, no? Culture and fights."

Hisoka stares at the floor.

"At any rate, Zzigg made a deal: the Ai would let them leave, and in return, the Zoldycks would assist the Ai with whatever they needed against Pap."

His voice falters as the Ai assert their agreement.

"The Zoldycks didn't keep the deal, did they?" Machi asks flatly.

"No. Though I don't know the specifics."

"I can guess," says Kurapika. "Nanika was their revenge, wasn't she?"

"She a kid," Feitan snaps. "Why sacrifice one of theirs? Why not kill Zoldycks?"

He squirms. How many kids has he slaughtered, again? Why is he upset now, only now that he has Kalluto and Machi and whomever is in Machi's stomach?

"Because…because I'm bad." Nanika's tears spill over. Real, hot tears. Real, salty water. She's human now. Mostly. "Because I ruined the ceremony. We're granted wishes and I wanted to be material."

"So they excommunicated you?" Kurapika knows what it's like to be different from your tribe. To want something different.

Nanika is not alone. He hopes his Scarlet Eyes convey that to her.

There's a sad smile on her face, and he suspects she does understand.

"They sent me to the materials," Nanika says. "But I couldn't…I couldn't do it. All I wanted was love…I saw how everyone patted and kissed Alluka, and I wanted to be her, and she let me in."

"I still would," Alluka says firmly, kissing Nanika's cheek. Her twin hugs her fiercely. And it's true. Alluka feels boring now without Nanika inside her.

"It wasn't so simple," Beyond says.

"No, of course not." Hisoka feels dread building.

"How did she know to seek out the Zoldycks?" Melody asks.

An Ai glides forward. Its mist gestures to and fro.

"They told her to," Alluka says. "Because…the new Zoldycks after Zzigg had stopped helping, they told her to go learn abut the material world and curse the Zoldycks."

"But I just wanted love," Nanika sobs. Killua, Kalluto, and Alluka hold her.

The Ai, at least, lower their vaporous faces. As if they're properly ashamed.

Killua's stomach turns.

"What is it?" Gon watches him.

"Nanika didn't show up until after Great-Grandpa died. I remember." Killua looks at the Ai.

He wants to ask the next question, but words fail him.

So Gon steps in. For his friend. "Ai, did Silva and Kikyo break the deal instead of Zzigg?"

Their response is swift.

"Yes," says Alluka, but the entire room already knows.

"Did they  _know_ the consequences?!" Nobunaga can't contain himself.

"I don't know." Beyond sighs.

"They wouldn't have. I'm sure," Kalluto says. "Mother and Father wouldn't. I'm positive."

"No one who states a belief that many times actually believes it," Shizuku observes, as Melody shakes her head.

Killua feels his world fall away. His parents – sacrificed Alluka? They knew? And they still locked her away? Like it was her fault?

"Catch him!" Franklin calls.

Hisoka's bungee gum grabs Killua around his waist to keep the kid from face-planting.

"For my part, it had become apparent the Ai curse existed." Beyond looks at Nanika. His eyes shine with emotion. "You're not a curse, I promise you, but that's what we thought."

She gasps and begins to cry. Kurapika, despite his own grief over Chrollo, sidles up to place a hand on her shoulder. Alluka wraps arms around her twin.

"It was around that time that Zeno came to my father, requesting help." Beyond shrugged. "I was young and naïve and determined to prove myself to my father's impossible standards, so I journeyed here. To find Metallion, the alchemical plant to cure everything. I thought it could save her, but instead, we were cursed with Zobae and the plant died."

Beyond laughs humorlessly. "My father despised me after, and I ran away instead of trying again."

He meets Nanika and Alluka's eyes. "I am sorry. Separating you two now does not atone for those years."

"Are  _they_  sorry?" Hisoka nods to the Ai. "Kicking out a kid because they're different is pretty fucked, if you ask me."

"No one did," Queen Swinko-Swinko says. "This is politics, you idiot."

"No, I agree with Hisoka," Oito says quietly. She kisses Woble's forehead. "Ai? What say you?"

They babble in response.

"They're sorry, too. They are learning," says Alluka. "And they are happy for Nanika now. That her dream has come true."

Nanika gasps again, this time with hope.

Another Ai drifts towards them. "We…change...for you."

* * *

Chrollo has always dreamt of invading Kukuroo Mountain. Just to spite Silva.

And now it looms before him, a lush, dormant volcano, perhaps a dead one. A wall surrounding it with only one guard Chrollo can't resist winking towards.

The man scowls at their prisoner, a young man held between Tsubone and Illumi. He looks to be under Lady Kikyo's Zetsu manipulation.

Silva pushes open the towering gate with ease.

A dog the size of a bear appears with a wagging tail, and Silva pats its head. "No food – you're on a diet."

The dog whines in the back of its throat, and Chrollo notices with small delight that the old man, Zeno, has a small bone held behind his back.

"We'll handle this one." The hulking old lady with motorized nen grips Chrollo's arm. Two other servants – or so Chrollo assumes from their neatly pressed suits – hurrying down the path towards them.

Even servants here are rich by Meteor City standards.

"Perhaps one of us ought to stay with him?" Illumi asks.

"Nonsense. Don't you trust us?" Tsubone clucks her tongue.

The younger butlers smirk at each other. One has bronze skin and unruly curls and mischievous eyes; the other is pale, with every hair perfectly in place, eyes afraid of life.

Chrollo wonders how long they've been dating, and if the Zoldycks know. Probably not.

"Illumi, you've been gone for a while. Your mother wishes to see you," says Silva.

"Yes, sir." Illumi meets Chrollo's eyes before heading away. They've never brought a prisoner back before, but surely, without the mafia present yet, he'll be imprisoned in the main compound.

"You should feel honored you were allowed to see this much of the Zoldyck Estate," Tsubone tells Chrollo as the Zoldycks move ahead.

Zeno tosses the dog the bone, and it gobbles it within seconds, before Silva has a chance to protest.

"It's quite nice compared to Meteor City, isn't it?" The dark-skinned girl smiles nervously.

"You know Meteor City?" Chrollo frowns.

"Most Zoldyck servants come from there. Except my granddaughter. Amane was born here." The old woman gestures towards the proper butler.

The Zoldycks hire from Meteor City? Chrollo's mind whirs. Perhaps – some of the missing kids –

The gate opens behind them, and the dark-skinned girl, the girl from Meteor City, blanches.

Chrollo turns his head.

Three men stand there – two are large, brutal, and exactly the sort of idiots Chrollo wouldn't care to know.

The third is small, with shaggy dark hair and a face covered with scars.

"Remember him?" One of the tall men gestures towards the tongueless third man.

_Owl._

* * *

"How much excitement have I missed amongst my siblings?" Milluki greets Illumi, Silva, and Zeno the second they walk in the door to the Zoldyck Mansion.

"True, you were the only one not there," Illumi says lightly.

Milluki opens his mouth to ask another question – to funnel a message – but Mother steps forward.

"Hello, Mother." Illumi nods to the small woman, who is clad as ever in clothing from the earlier portions of the century as if she can't let go, and indeed she can't.

Kikyo throws her arms around Illumi. He's never been much a hugger, but now that he's an adult she wishes she hadn't hurt him whenever he asked for hugs as a child. It's her one regret – well, at least, her one regret regarding Illumi. "How are the others?"

"Kalluto and Killua are good, if rambunctious. I think they've grown stronger." Illumi leaves out Alluka for now.

"Has Kil softened with that thing?" Kikyo lowers her voice.

"For now," Illumi says. "I'm sure he won't be able to control her eventually, and then he'll harden again."

He's not describing Killua, of course. Illumi is describing himself.

"Master Silva, the mafia thank you for the car," says Tsubone, entering the hall.

"Excellent." Silva nods.

"Chrollo? I thought we were keeping him here." Illumi frowns.

"The mafia appear to have decided to arrive early and take him with them," Kikyo says, brushing back a strand of silky black hair. "Back to  _that_  place."

Her voice drips with derision.

_Meteor City._

"Is that so?" Illumi keeps his peaceful mask plastered across his face. There must be a way for him to leave soon, to chase after Chrollo. Once he's away from home, he can contact have the Spiders, make it look like a rescue he had nothing to do with.

Silva and Kikyo exchange glances.

"Truthfully, the Kurta deal was the first time we ever asked the mafia for a job," Silva begins slowly.

Illumi wrinkles his nose.  _An assassin never seeks out a kill_. Father taught him that. "Whatever for?"

"We…heard concerning rumors about the voyage to the Dark Continent," says Kikyo.

"Surely you know Kalluto and I can fend for ourselves. As can Killua, even with that thing," Illumi says. Thing _s_ , really, and now they're both people, now they're twins, but he swallows the words for now.

"Your brother told us an alarming rumor," says Silva.

Milluki looks crushed. His face flushes with shame.

Illumi can only imagine how Silva threatened his least favorite son, but still, as far as Illumi knows, Milluki's contact with Killua regarded one thing, and one thing only.

 _Shit_.

"You mean the rumors regarding my contract while aboard?" Illumi raises an eyebrow. His heartbeat remains stable. They will never know.

Silva folds his arms across his massive chest. "An engagement to another man."

"A death contract, to be precise, framed as an engagement," Illumi says.

The room goes quiet. Kikyo has tears in her eyes, and Silva's face is frosty. Even Tsubone looks perturbed.

Finally, Silva speaks again. "It's just a job, isn't it?"

"When has Illumi ever not acted the part of an assassin?" Zeno attempts to diffuse the tension with a joke. His eyes shoot daggered warnings at his grandson.

"It is, isn't it?" Silva steps over to his eldest son.

"Yes, sir," says Illumi, as casually as ever. "I would never risk carrying on our family name."

"Good," says Kikyo, sliding besides him. A needle slips into his wrist.

Illumi glances at her, a trace of surprise on his face. It's not often someone bests him in needles.

He feels a fizzing sensation in his brain, as if his defenses and best instincts – everything family has taught him – are melting away.

Milluki looks terrified.  _I'm sorry_ , he mouths to Illumi, who by now is only dully aware that he may actually be in danger.

No – he has to rescue Chrollo – kill the mafia who want Kurapika – hide Hisoka – he misses Hisoka –

Zeno sighs, because he knows already.

"You ask. I can't." Kikyo presses a hand over her trembling lips.

Silva nods and looks directly into Illumi's black vortex eyes. The same eyes as Kikyo. The frightening eyes he was so proud of, the ones that are now drugged with compulsion. In fact, their eldest son's control has been suppressed to the point that he is now drooling. "Are you in love with this Hisoka?"

"I think so," Illumi slurs. He doesn't want to – he's not even sure what love is – but something compels him to speak anyways.

Milluki shakes his head violently from behind their parents.  _Listen to me for once, you fucking idiot, and stop_.

Zeno's eyes dart between his grandsons, yet he says nothing.

"Was this engagement made with the intention to marry?"

"I don't know." Illumi's never really expected Hisoka to live as long as he has.

"Did you want to?" Kikyo finally bursts out.

"Yes." Illumi stares straight ahead.

"Are you – do you have romantic feelings for another man, Illumi?"

"I do." Illumi smiles, as if they should have known, as if they should be glad he's found someone to love.

"I knew we should have hired a woman to force him first," Kikyo snaps.

Milluki's face turns redder. "You made a man take me, too, and I'm still only interested in women."

Zeno frowns. A horrific question plants itself in his mind. Enough to shatter his ideas of family. But it's certainly not – not what it sounds like. Silva wouldn't.

But an equally repugnant idea plants itself in Silva's brain. "Are you already married, Illumi?"

"He can't be," Kikyo squawks.

"Killua secured the certificate to help me," Illumi says dreamily.

" _No_!" Kikyo screams, and Zeno groans.

Silva wraps a hand around his eldest son's throat. He lifts him off the ground.

As he struggles for air, Illumi realizes deep in his brain that he really is in danger, from his own family, and he is entirely helpless.

_There is one job an assassin does not take._

Illumi's heart pounds. Why can't he think? Why can't he understand?

_An assassin does not kill his family._

_Then why are you strangling me?_

"You are a disgrace, Illumi. An utter stain upon the Zoldycks," Silva states.

Even in his state, Illumi suddenly looks aghast. "But – wait – he's family now."

Silva hurls Illumi into the wall.

Illumi feels a pop in his shoulder as he slumps to the floor. But that's not – that's not where the pain is – is it his heart? Is his heart hurting? Why? What is happening? What about family?

Tsubone has never much liked Master Illumi, but now, he's groveling in a corner, unable to stand or form a coherent sentence. He looks pathetic and weak, like the child he was never allowed to be, and for what? For love?

Also, what is this about force? Tsubone is never one to judge the Zoldycks, but this frightens her.

This is why she worried for Silva when he lost his heart to Kikyo. Someone with her past could never live normally.


	33. Cross

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**Cross**

Illumi has already regarded the Zoldyck's dungeon as more home than his old bedroom. His first memories are from this prison; he spent more time here as a child than anywhere else.

After a while, he rather enjoyed the silence. The feeling of the muscles and ligaments in his arms being stretched as he hung by his hands. He could lose himself in reveries of love, of people saying he had done a good job. That he was the perfect assassin.

And then Milluki was born, but Illumi wasn't allowed to spend much time with him due to training, and he was rather relieved to be imprisoned here, away from Milluki's wailings.

He was twelve when Killua came. And when he held Killua in his arms, he finally realized how lonely he was.

So he persuaded Father to let him train Killua, and Killua's potential was noted to be the best ever, and Illumi was so proud. Because he too felt valuable, just through Killua's talent.

Illumi no longer needed to be the perfect assassin. Illumi would be happy enough with Killua's perfection, because Killua loved him.

And then Killua ran off, and Killua made friends and never mentioned Illumi to them. Like he was glad to be rid of Illumi. Like Illumi was a burden.

When Illumi confronted him at the final stage in the Hunter Exam, it wasn't that he hadn't understood Killua's happiness with friends.

It was that he understood too well.

Because he thought Killua was  _his_  friend.

All he ever wanted was for Killua to value him as much as Illumi valued Killua, but instead, Gon took that place.

The problem was never Killua. The problem, Illumi recognizes, was himself.

Of course, he isn't allowed to be alone right now. Nor is he even allowed the familiar comfort of hanging by his hands.

His parents' shadows loom over him. He's chained around his waist to the wall, and his wrists are shackled to his ankles.

Illumi's head is bowed so that his parents cannot see his grief. He's finally broken his family, the very family he's killed and maimed to maintain.

"It turns out the most loyal member is to blame for the rebellion of our youth," says his father, and Illumi lowers his head further.

"How could you?" Mother sobs.

Illumi says nothing. He can't cry. Not now. That will only make their wrath worse.

He learned that at age two.

"Illumi." Kikyo digs her nails into his shoulder. "Don't you care about me? Don't you see what this is doing to me?"

Illumi feels guilt strike his heart, but he also hears Hisoka's acidic voice in his head.  _You're not the one chained right now._

"Where is he?" Silva asks.

"Where?!" Kikyo screams.

Illumi focuses on the crack in the stones beneath him. From his angle, it is shaped like St. Peter's cross. He hopes Hisoka is on his way to save Chrollo, and leaving Illumi for now.

"Illumi." Silva squats in front of Illumi, and tilts his son's chin up until Illumi has to look at him. "He will die no matter what you do or do not say."

 _I already have, bitch_. Hisoka laughs in Illumi's brain.

"It may be easier, and less painful for both of you, if you tell us how to find and identify him."

Illumi refuses to speak. The lump in his throat will betray him if he does.

 _Are you crying_? He'd asked Hisoka the night they'd made love.

 _You won't, and one of us has to_.

Hisoka cried for him then. Hisoka, or the Hisoka in his brain, can cry for him now, until Illumi is free. Which may be a while.

Because he's never going to give up Hisoka.

Father sighs, and beckons to Mother. She hands him a knife, and Illumi focuses on the cross on the floor, on the cross just like he has since he was two.

* * *

"Ikalgo!" Killua has barely landed on solid ground before the image of an orange octopus registers in his brain.

"Friend!" Ikalgo races forward, through the twenty people who have just materialized in this remote road in the midst of the Republic of Padokea, to throw his tentacles around Killua.

"Is this your ant friend?" Alluka bounds forward, Nanika on her heels.

Ikalgo looks back and forth between the twins. "Hey…there's two of them."

"I'm Nanika," says Nanika.

"She's half Ai, half human. Kinda like you," Killua says, patting Ikalgo's head. "Part human, part octopus, part Chimera Ant."

"Nice to meet you." Ikalgo bows to the two Zoldyck sisters, as much as an octopus can boy. He peers behind them. "And nice to see Gon up and healthy again."

Gon waves. Killua told him the entire reason Killua survived during their time in NGL was that he relayed Gon's ideas on friendship to Ikalgo. And Ikalgo helped him.

Right now, Gon is trying to convince himself that even if he never gets his nen back, he can still use friendship as a pretty badass power. So he automatically likes Ikalgo.

"So how far is your home from here?" Shizuku inquires.

"We'll need to sneak in," Killua says. "Or I'll have to go first…and sneak you guys in. But it's all the way up Kukoroo Mountain." He points to the volcano in the distance.

"Palm and Meleoron watched them enter the gate. She's keeping an eye on both Illumi and Chrollo." Ikalgo claps his tentacles together. He looks up to Phinks, who has adorned his Pharoah headdress. "I like your hat."

"Oh, no you don't," Machi complains.

Phinks sniffs. "Excellent taste." He hands the hat to Ikalgo, who promptly places it on his head.

"Keep it," Oito jokes, drawing a playful shove from Phinks.

"Let's head over there," Kurapika says tensely. They can't wait. He can't trust Illumi that much, even if he wants to.

"I agree," Nobunaga says, hating himself for having to agree with the Chain Bastard on anything.

When they near the testing gate, a lanky chameleon-human hybrid emerges from his camouflage against the walls, and a beautiful woman with a prominent indigo orb on her forehead. Both wear frowns.

"What happened?" Melody asks, sensing desperation in their heartbeats.

Palm keeps one hand over her right eye. "Chrollo has been taken by the mafia. They're on their way to Meteor City."

Feitan curses.

"There's more, right, Palm?" Gon bites his lip.

She nods. Her left eye travels to Killua. "Your brother Illumi is imprisoned. And tortured." Her voice breaks. "Your own parents – it's terrible."

Hisoka hisses. "Why?"

"They found out he got married, didn't they," Alluka guesses.

"No –they wouldn't." Kalluto's lips tremble.

"You heard them!" Nanika stomps her foot. "With paper dolls, you did. They were worried about it."

"But – but I don't want them to!" Kalluto cries.

"Hey, hey, kid." Feitan isn't sure if he should be more worried for Danchou or Illumi, so right now, he's going to focus on the child in front of him. He squats down to look Kalluto in his eyes. "You're okay. You brother be okay. Machi and I take care of you."

"I don't want them to hurt people," Kalluto whispers.

"Neither do we, Kalluto." Machi draws him closer, in a hug. He wraps his arms around her belly, which is just barely starting to protrude.

"Some of us have got to get to Chrollo," Kurapika says anxiously.

"I know." Hisoka looks pained.

"Yeah, you do," Franklin reminds him.

"We'll divide up. We all know who's going where." Oito snaps her fingers. "The Zoldycks and Hisoka have reason to stay here, plus Gon and Beyond. The rest of the Troupe, and Kurapika and Melody, will go to Meteor City."

"What about Leorio and Cheadle?" Leorio demands.

"Wherever you think you'll help," Oito replies.

Leorio hesitates. "Kurapika shouldn't be alone."

"He's not," Melody replies.

"No but…the four of us who went through the Hunter Exam have a secpial bond, even if we haven't always honored that. Gon and Killua can stay together. I'm sticking with Kurapika for now." Leorio grins weakly. "You can't get rid of me, you masochistic brat."

Kurapika laughs to ward of the pang of heartbreak brought by the word  _masochist_. Because that was one of Chrollo's favorite words for him. He needs to hear Chrollo call him that again. "I'm grateful."

"I'll stick with you, too. My authority as Hunter Chairman might do us more good in Meteor City than here, and besides, rumor is Pariston does business in Meteor City, anyhow." Cheadle rolls her eyes.

"Kalluto…would you rather us stay?" Machi asks, rubbing his back.

He shakes his head. "Go save Danchou. I'll be back soon."

Feitan opens his mouth. "But –"

"They grow up so fast," Machi says sarcastically.

"They won't kill Danchou on his way to Meteor City," Bonolenov muses. "We'll need to intercept them when he arrives. Can we beat them there, that is the question."

"I can keep you posted where they are," Palm says, keeping her hand affixed to her right eye.

Nanika clears her throat. "You can."

"Will it be too much on you?" Killua asks anxiously.

"Probably, but I will try." Nanika nibbles her lip. "But…I'm supposed to help you get inside the gate."

"We'll figure that out later," Killua says. "It's okay, Nanika."

She holds out her hand. "Hand…Alluka, hold me."

Alluka grabs her sister.

"Meteor City." Nanika scrunches up her face and, with a burst of light, over half of their party vanishes.

She crumbles towards the ground, but Hisoka catches her with Bungee Gum before even Alluka can right her.

"At least allow us to help her too," Kalluto snaps.

Hisoka rolls his eyes. "Okay, kids." He checks her breathing. "She's okay. Just exhausted."

"Then how are we getting inside the mountains?" Beyond asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" Killua grins. "You're not, not yet. Until Nanika wakes up, only Kalluto, Alluka, and I can go."

* * *

Milluki enters the dungeon, whip in hand, just ten minutes after Mother and Father left. Ruining Illumi's silence, as per usual.

Illumi is covered in blood by now. He clings to the hope that Father and Mother didn't resort to torture until they'd asked questions several times over. Typically, once a question is asked once, the torture begins. The fact that they didn't – that they asked multiple times – they must love him to some degree.

Illumi regards Milluki. His little brother, while brilliant, has never had self-control.

Funny how Illumi had too much. Milluki was always his opposite, and jealous of him.

 _He's going to enjoy this_ , Illumi thinks.

Milluki approaches. The whip oscillates before Illumi's eyes.

"You know, I always wanted you to fuck up," Milluki says. "I've been waiting for this for years. So that maybe, with your fall, Mother and Father would despise me a little less. "

"How long have you known?" Illumi asks through his swollen lip.

"That you were gay? I mean, I've always wondered why you, who were so dedicated to family, never found a woman as soon as you turned a marriageable age. But I didn't know until I heard the recent rumors about you and Hisoka." Milluki checks behind them.

His voice drops. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Most people don't, not anymore. Our family's always been behind the times."

Illumi catches his breath. Despite the pain, he jerks his eyes up to rake Milluki's unusually serious face.

"My cameras have seen a few suspicious faces from outside." Milluki's shoulders slump. "I'm still mad at you for all the shit you pulled with Alluka…but I edited the camera feed. No one knows they're here. For what little that will do."

"Alluka." Illumi wishes it were safe to tell Milluki that she's now two people, Alluka and Nanika, and that they're sweet and powerful and he was wrong to hurt them.

But he can't trust Milluki, as much as he wants to.

Milluki notes the happy look on Illumi's face when he mentions their sister. So Illumi really has changed, hmm.

"You need to hurt me. They'll be angry if you don't," Illumi says.

"Pah. I've always been their disappointment." Milluki drops the whip on the floor and leaves.

Milluki locks the dungeon behind them, ignoring the figure glaring at him from down the hall.

"What?" Milluki demands. He knows Zeno couldn't have heard his conversation. So what if Grandpa is mad he didn't torture his brother?

"Take a walk with us." Zeno holds out his hand. Maha Zoldyck, that tottering old great-grandfather Milluki has always avoided fear that Maha would hate him like everybody else, steps out from behind him.

* * *

"Are you enjoying this?" Chrollo can't help but ask. Their airship is bound for Meteor City, and as luck would have it, only he and the Owl are still awake.

Owl avoids his gaze. He scribbles on a piece of paper.  _I'm here because I can confirm your appearance, nothing more._

"You're lying."

_So what if I am?_

Owl makes a huffing noise, similar to laughter.

"You want your power back?" Chrollo rather enjoys Fun, Fun Cloth, to be honest. He's not sure he's a good enough person to return it unless Owl grants him freedom. Ugh, Kurapika would be so disappointed.

 _I want to ask_ _why_.

Chrollo feels cold.

 _I want to know why!_ Kurapika is yelling in his face, his enemy just weeks before they became lovers.

"Why…which part?" Chrollo huffs now. There's too many sins to know which.

_You broke me – but you had to take more. Why?_

Chrollo recalls approaching the whimpering man whose face was covered with a burlap sack after Feitan's treatment. He recalls freeing him from the bag, and the fear in the young man's eyes when he saw Chrollo. He gently asked him questions about his power, and requested the man to sign his book, as a punishment.  _You will remember the power of the Spider forever_.

He'd left then, with Fun Fun Cloth, and allowed Feitan to release the man after cutting out his tongue.

"Greed? Power?" Chrollo thinks. "No. It's never been that. It's been – a desire to know – to find myself – by trying out what others use. Your identity was your power, so I tried it."

He closes his eyes to avoid Owl's shakes. "That's not … a good reason. I wish I could provide a better one."

That's right, isn't it? Kurapika's just one victim. Even if Kura has forgiven him, there are hundreds who haven't.

"I take it back. I didn't want to find myself. I wanted to fill myself with abilities so I wouldn't have to find myself. So I wouldn't have to admit I'm … scared of myself."

Owl scribbles furiously _. The Mafia has been paid by many families of your Yorknew victims. The new King, Gyro, has put a bounty on your head_.  _You may never know yourself, but you will know what it is to be tortured until you lose everything._

"Any yet," Chrollo says, "You don't feel better, do you? Only correcting the past would make you feel better, but unfortunately, that's a nen skill not even Ai possess."

Owl frowns at the mention of Ai.

"I'm sorry," Chrollo says. He's sorry for the whole Yorknew plot. his stupid middle-finger to the mafia who exploited those in Meteor City, his stupid catalyst that led to the deaths of so many of his family.

But it also led to Kurapika.

Owl settles back in his seat. He does not accept Chrollo's apology, not that Chrollo blames him.

No, Chrollo doesn't want to redo the past. He just wants to keep the past from destroying his future, as justified as destruction might be.


	34. Of Trash and Shooting Stars

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Of Trash and Shooting Stars**

"Master Killua?" A willowy butler meets the three youngest Zoldycks on the path towards the Zoldyck mansion. She steps beyond the stone wall with a confidence she doesn't feel.

Killua's lips curl. "Amane."

She shakes her head and tiptoes closer. She glances around them before deciding they're safe. "Canary sent me. If she met you, your parents might suspect."

"Where's Illumi?" Alluka peers up at her.

The fear that crosses Amane's face when Alluka speaks to her – it's unmistakable. Killua's heart cracks, and Kalluto scowls.

"He's in the isolation room, isn't he? Fancy word for a dungeon." Kalluto sniffs.

Amane's shoulders slump. "Yes, Master Kalluto." She bites her lip.

"We're here to rescue him," Killua says.

"I figured as much. You won't rest until all of your siblings are rescued, will you, Master Killua?" Amane sighs.

"No, I won't. I…they're my friends, too." Killua searches her eyes for understanding. "Please, help us."

"But Amane could die if she does," Kalluto interjects.

"But she loves Canary," Alluka announces. "So she will."

"Huh?!" Amane, Kalluto, and Killua all turn to the beaming clairvoyant.

Except Nanika isn't here. Alluka doesn't even know why she spoke, or how she knows. She just does.

Alluka holds up her finger. "Maybe…maybe I remembered how Nanika did it. Or…maybe…"

Maybe it's nen. Maybe…Alluka does have talent on her own.

But then Nanika's vengeance on loved ones was because Alluka knew them all on her own. Alluka trembles – if she wants special power, does she want special responsibility, like that quote Killua used to tell her?

"Good job," Kalluto says, kissing her cheek.

"What?" Amane's mouth hangs open.

"What?" Killua repeats. "You and Canary?"

"We're not allowed relationships," Amane snaps.

"I'm not convinced," Killua says coolly.

"They are." Alluka's eyes widen. "I think it's sweet. The people you care most about are Tsubone and Canary."

"I see. Nanika could figure out how close people are – or maybe that was Alluka this whole time. Or maybe both." Killua whistles. "You're something, sis."

He doesn't hate her? He doesn't hate her for Nanika's destruction? Or hate Nanika, right, because Alluka loves her? Will she ever stop questioning her siblings' love?

"Maybe Amane can help us and we can help her and Canary?"

"Where is Nanika?" Amane looks petrified. "Wait – no – I'm not –"

"Nanika is outside the gate. She's Alluka's twin now and a badass." Kalluto smirks.

"What?" Amane repeats.

Alluka pouts. She wants to be a badass too.

"So are you," Kalluto adds quickly. He knows what it's like to be lost in a sibling's shadow, after all.

Alluka smiles back at him.

"So what do you say, Amane? Wanna help?" Killua grins. "After all, without men being allowed to marry, my parents sure won't approve of women marrying."

"I told you already –"

"We need you guys to make a distraction," Killua interrupts.

* * *

Crows circle the smoggy sky above, as the sun beats down on Kurapika with a brutality he didn't realize nature could possess. The smell is rancid, and dust settles against his immediately sticky skin. Piles of trash and bones – some animal, some human – form a sea of mountains and ravines. Rusted automobiles collapse among the trash, stained with blood. A rotten tooth lies by Kurapika's foot; its owner is long gone.

And through all the rubbish, through all the muck, hundred of eyes watch the new arrivals.

Kurapika suddenly loses the ability to breathe. This – this is where Chrollo grew up.

While he was running among lush greenery, dreaming of an outside world with wonder, Chrollo had been searching for food amongst garbage and dreaming of an outside world that was simply separate from trash.

"Not what you expected?" Nobunaga raises an eyebrow.

The Kurta kid is pale. But he doesn't look ill – he looks angry.

"People  _live_  here," Kurapika whispers, and it feels so wrong to simply state that fact.

"We all did," Phinks says quietly, cradling Woble against his chest.

Oito steps forward and beckons towards a shed of infested wood, which sits precariously to their right.

Kurapika opens his mouth to ask what she sees, but then a child peeks out, and Oito's offering him the gold chain around her neck. She's kissing the top of his lice-riddled head as if she has no fear.

Phinks' face turns red with pride. Pride that this woman loves him. Pride that he loves her. Shame on him for thinking she might reject him once she saw the city he, like most inhabitants, is strangely proud of.

Machi's hands, meanwhile, rest on her stomach. Her face looks thoughtful.

 _You're not gonna grow up here, kid_ , she promises her unborn child.  _You'll be loved and have a home and Daddy and I will always be there for you._

She wishes someone had told her that, so she'll tell it to her child, as many times as they need.

"You! You're the Phantom Troupe!" croaks a man so thin his ribs protrude from his side.

He staggers towards the Troupe. Melody and Cheadle grab him and help him sit down.

"What of it?" Franklin asks with a grin.

"You…you saved us when that ant bitch came," wheezes the man.

"Breathe deep," Cheadle tells him, offering him her water canteen.

He takes a hacking breath, and Cheadle winces at the crackle of his lungs. An infection; likely too late to cure.

"But you left all the people," mumbles the man. Fleck of blood stain is chapped lips.

"What people?" Shizuku asks.

"The half-ants." He coughs again.

Kurapika's eyes flit to Cheadle's resigned face, and then to Oito, who is talking to more children.

They need to find Chrollo.

But there is someone right now who needs him.

Kurapika's heart shudders to think of how much money the Troupe might have sent back to Meteor City. He doesn't want to think of their actions as morally grey as they likely were.

Because if the mafia treated the Kurtas like this, he might have orchestrated their massacre, too.

And he'd have been wrong. But he still might have done it, because Kurapika isn't that good a person.

He can be good now, though. He steps forward and presses Holy Chain against the man's chest.

"You'll be okay," he promises him.

Nobunaga squirms. Ugh. The bastard's being kind. To someone who is undoubtedly a murderer and a thief. Everyone here is.

"Are you…looking for the ants," mumbles the man. He closes his eyes, embracing his first pain-free breath in a long time.

"I thought the only ones left were the people transformed; they were already from here," Shizuku says.

"They were." The man wipes his mouth.

"They're all going away," says one of the kids hanging onto Oito's skirts. "They keep going."

"What do you mean?" Leorio asks.

"My daughter…" The man winces. "She got caught. She was so pretty, even as a hybrid. And then she was gone."

"People disappear in Meteor City all the time," Cheadle says.

"That's why if a citizen says it's different, it's different," Franklin replies.

"It's only ants…it's all the same. They meet a girlfriend. And then they're gone." The man looks at Kurapika. "My desire has never been to to be healed. I just want to see my little girl again."

"Don't say it," Leorio warns.

"He's gonna say it," Melody says.

"We'll help you," Kurapika says. He looks back at the Phantom Troupe. "That's what you all do, right? Help the people here?"

"Something like that," Feitan says with a sigh. His eyes remain on the sky, which remains free of all airships, free of everything except dust and scalding sun.

* * *

"What –" Tsubone has barely turned around before Amane enters her room.

Tears shine in Amane's eyes. "Grandmother, I'm – I cannot – I'm, uh, I mean, very distressed by the situation with Master Illumi."

"It's tragic," Tsubone agrees, eying Amane. Her granddaughter has never been skilled at guile; she is scheming something.

And Tsubone would rather focus on Amane than what the Zoldycks might have done tot their children. If she even heard correctly.

"But is it really wrong for two people to love each other?" Amane presses. "If they're the same gender, I mean."

"Why do you ask?"

"The other day, I, um, I kissed Canary." Amane tugs on her hair.

"Amane." Tsubone prays to God that the Zoldycks aren't listening in through her monocle. "Love is forbidden regardless of gender. Your loyalties are to the Zoldycks, and the Zoldycks alone."

"Then how did you have my mother?" Amane's face is now scarlet. "B – b – because I think I love Canary, and I can't stop, and –"

Tsubone understands suddenly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I wanted advice," Amane says lamely.

"Amane." Tsubone glowers at her.

Amane's phone buzzes. She opens it to a thumbs-up from Canary.

"Oh, is it your plan working?" Tsubone asks. What is wrong with her? Why is her loyalty to the Zoldycks so strong she won't crush this monocle or support her own granddaughter? Why, when these assassins may have raped their children?

The door flies open, sooner than Tsubone expected, sooner than she had time to decide.

But to Tsubone's surprise, a simpering red-haired clown stands there. "Your guard has arrived."

"You!" Amane shouts, overcome with fury.

* * *

Kalluto races after his mother. She storms out of the house, towards the butler's quarters. No doubt to arrest Amane.

"Stupid girl – I knew – I knew Canary was trouble!" she fumes to herself. "First Illumi, now those girls!"

Ah, Kikyo, for all her outspoken behavior, taught him stealth. She taught all the children the art of trailing an opponent. And Kalluto is grateful, as he trails his mother.

He hopes Hisoka has reached Amane first. He hopes that Palm and the ants have made it through the gates, after Beyond overpowered Zebro. And that Beyond will keep the still-exhausted Nanika safe and away from Zoldyck property while the ants distract his grandparents and Milluki.

* * *

"Go find the key while I distract Father," Killua orders Alluka and Canary.

"What if you need help?" Canary asks anxiously, watching him, a kid her age, stride towards the room of Silva Zoldyck.

"I've got it." Killua grins and holds up his phone. "Gon'll be here in a few minutes."

Canary opens her mouth to protest, but Alluka is already dragging her away to the armory. Where the keys to far too many devices are held, but Alluka doesn't notice that. She just notices that she is here, saving her brother. Doing something that matters.

Canary frantically scans the keys. "They're missing."

"What?" Alluka asks sharply. She knows what it's like to be locked up, alone. Though at least she had Nanika then; Illumi doesn't even have that. She needs to go to him.

"The keys to Illumi's chains – they're a set of three brass keys, I remember watching them lock him in them." Canary frowns.

Alluka's impatience wins. She can't leave Illumi alone any longer. "Can you keep searching? I – I am going to find my brother."

* * *

"You killed Gotoh, didn't you?!" Amane's face twists. She balls her fists and glares down the clown.

"Oh, was that his name? I forgot to ask." Hisoka frowns. The glasses-clad man with the coins. Right. Oops.

God, he can't feel bad about that. If he feels bad about every bad thing he's done, he'll never feel good again. "Perhaps I should have at least done him that courtesy."

"Why you –" Amane freezes.

The two butlers know who has come from the shrill shriek that pierces the air before the door even opens.

Hisoka, however, spins around to see one of the people he's been daydreaming of killing.

Kikyo Zoldyck.

* * *

"Go, you two. I can take her." Milluki waves to Zeno and Maha. He just – he just wants them gone, wants this interrogation over. How is it that the worst interrogation of his life has consisted of gentle questions posed in a garden?

He glares down the otherworldly woman smirking at him. She's accompanied by an octopus and a chameleon – this situation is so ridiculous, he must laugh.

Zeno leaves, but to Milluki's disappointment, Maha stays. Silent. Ready for their attack. Working with Milluki.

 _I'm ugly and ungrateful. Leave_ , he wants to yell.  _Don't you dare love me_.

 _You'll just be disappointed_.

"We don't intend to kill you." The woman's hair begins to grow, winding around and around her slender body. "But that doesn't mean we'll take it easy on you."

* * *

The blood has dried and cracked over Illumi's wounds. It smells foul, and Illumi almost hopes his parents return to draw more blood that will at least wash the flaking rust off his skin.

He wants them to return and say Chrollo has escaped.

He wants them to return and say he's forgiven.

Illumi remembers the day he first learned he wasn't perfect, the day he heard his parents confirm the inferiority his feelings always suggested.

_"_ _He's too emotional."_

_"_ _Illu never shows emotion!" Mother protested._

_"_ _And_ we _do. His suppression means he's far too emotional," Father said firmly. "And unable to control it."_

Thirteen-year-old Illumi pressed himself against the door, begging Father to compliment him, to please, please like him. Not to hate him like he hated Milluki.

_"_ _We can't have an emotionally weak runt as our heir. He'll taint the family name – both our brats will," Father said._

I'll prove you wrong,  _Illumi thought as he shook._ I'll be unemotional, and it will be my strength, you'll see, Father.

_And then he'd slapped himself for thinking ill of Father._

" _But Killua…" Father's voice warmed, and Illumi saw his chance._

 _Illumi had fled towards the mountain base and buried his face in Mike's soft fur._  If I help Kil, he'll love me. I'll help Killua be the best heir, and then I'll be loved, I'll be loved, I'll be very loved by Killua, the one who matters most.

Illumi heaves a sigh, forcing the lump down his throat. No tears, not yet.

Now he's loved not just by Killua, but by Kalluto and Alluka and Nanika and even Milluki – and by Hisoka. Maybe even by the Troupe.

But still not Mother and Father.

"Big brother!"

Illumi jerks his head to the side. Is he hallucinating?

Because the dungeon door has been rolled aside, and a smiling girl with a green skirt and pink top stands there.

Alluka may be smiling, but tears run down her cheeks. "I'm going to save you."

"You're here." Illumi could kill Killua for endangering her.

"I'd never leave you. You're my biggest brother." Alluka closes herself in with Illumi. She hurries over to him and curls up at his side.

"Alluka…You're in danger here." Illumi pushes her back as far as he can move his chained hands. "Go, little sister."

She throws her arms around him, and Illumi feels as if he's been knifed in his heart. "I won't leave."

"Alluka, you don't have the skills," Illumi begs.

"Then I'm gonna keep you company, at least, until someone with the skills to save you comes!" Alluka stomps her foot. "I have a nen power, too."

Illumi waits. This is news to him.

"I…was able to see relationships. The people Amane loves most." Alluka's eyes water. "That wasn't Nanika.  _I_ can tell if people love each other, even if I'm weaker, even if I'm weaker than all of you, even if that means Nanika could use that to kill people back when we weren't in control. That's  _me_. And I see and feel that I love my Big Brother, and I don't want to leave him."

Illumi hesitates. "Alluka, you're not the one chained right now."

"I think big brother Illumi is very strong," she says seriously.

"And I think little  _sister_  Alluka is stronger. You were rejected and abused long before me. By me, in part. And you still smile and embrace life and – and me." Illumi can't hold it back any longer. Tears spill down his face. "Alluka, I love you."

"I love you, too, Big Brother." She kisses his cheek and leans closer. Her whispers tickle his ear. "They're coming. All of them."

"It's dangerous – that's one of the first things I should have taught you. Don't take on a fight you can't win." Illumi shakes his head wildly.

"Big Brother Hisoka did."

"And he died."

"But he's back!" Alluka sits next to Illumi. "You're worth losing for."

Illumi opens his mouth to scold her, but a sob cuts him off, and he realizes only after a moment that the tears are his own.


	35. Loyalty

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Loyalty**

**Content: discussions of sexual assault, victim-blaming, and lgbtq+ slurs. :(**

_She doesn't know the child's name, but that's okay, because no one in Meteor City really has a name that matters. But she does know that Illuna, who used to slap her underlings and smuggle more drugs home than the mafia knew, has changed._

_"_ _Advice? I don't have much." Illuna turns around, and as she does, her faces lights up. "Ah, here he is."_

_A two-year-old totters in, with his mother's flamboyant red hair and laughing eyes._

_"_ _He looks like you," Kikyo says. Her hands rest against her growing stomach._

 _"_ _I hope so." Illuna takes her child in her arms. She kisses his chubby cheeks, and Kikyo smiles nervously._

 _"_ _You're not like me, you know. They might not like this." Illuna snorts. "There's a market for fucking pregnant women. I'm not sure there's one for assassins."_

 _"_ _Then I'll make one." Kikyo draws herself up. "I have to."_

 _"_ _Wouldn't it be easier to get rid of it?"_

_Kikyo swallows a scream. No, of course not – because look at Illuna, look at Illuna, look how her child has saved her._

_"_ _Your children won't always save you."_

 _"_ _Mine will." Kikyo sticks out her tongue and stomps away._

_But Illuna calls out to her. A question._

Kikyo scans the clown through her visor. This intruder – he looks like – those cheekbones – it's no matter, is it? Nothing from Meteor City matters.

"So, I see you've both set us up. Our most loyal butlers," Kikyo mocks Tsubone and Amane, who simply stand in their room like dolts.

"More like I set them up to set you up, but don't worry about the details." The clown waves his hand about. "By the way, what  _have_  you done with my husband?"

Kikyo hisses. "You! You're –  _Hisoka_!"

What a stupid name. A stupid name from trash wrecking her family, her salvation. Her voice grows shrill. "Do you know what you've done?!"

"Mother, wait!" Kalluto's voice breaks into the room.

"Kalluto!" Kikyo glances behind her, towards her youngest, the one who actually seemed to love her back. The one whom she feels sorry for not favoring.

Killua, though, Kil is her masterpiece. He looks like a Zoldyck. He resembles her the least. He's not damaged like her.

She's always hated Tsubone for looking down on her half as much as Kikyo looks down on herself. Tsubone and everyone else in this family, except Silva and her children - they all think she's tainted. "I'm going to enjoy killing you two."

"And you. Corrupter," Kikyo sneers towards Hisoka.

"Corrupter? I can't deny that, but, oh, please," mocks Hisoka. He forces himself to sound calm. " _I know what you do to your kids who turn fifteen_."

It's all he's ever wanted to say.  _I know what you did. I know_.  _I understand._

Kikyo's eyes glint behind her visor.

"Huh?" Kalluto looks confused.

"Are you fifteen? No? Then calm down." Hisoka sounds unusually frazzled. He focuses on Kikyo. "You may be the first person I don't even think I'd be satisfied to kill."

"Ha." Kikyo chuckles.

Finally, someone shouts at her for it.

But she had to.

She knows what happens to kids who are too soft.

"This is the world we live in. I made sure they could kill them afterwards. This was the world we live in. It was for their own protection!" Kikyo slaps Hisoka.

"A slap? Aren't you an assassin?" Hisoka spits.

"Better than a queer, petty murderer so desperate for a family he'd ruin another," Kikyo growls. "Fag."

"Have you called Illumi that, too?" Hisoka looks incensed.

Mother is playing his emotions, and manipulating him, and he doesn't even realize it. Or perhaps he doesn't care. Kalluto wants to scream out what's happening, but – but Mother would see that as treason, and he loves Mother.

 _"_ _When in doubt, distract." Machi wipes ice cream on Kalluto's nose._

"Is it true you killed Gotoh?" Kalluto does his best to look horrified.

Hisoka frowns. Is that really important now? The important thing is getting out of here before he breaks the neck of Illumi's mother.

 _Don't blame them_ , Illumi had begged him.

Well, fuck, he does anyway.

And Amane and Kalluto blame him. Which…they should, but it's different. Hisoka scowls.

"Hisoka didn't hurt his own children the way you have," Tsubone says at last. "Lady Kikyo…you are a monster."

The woman shrieks. Even Kalluto cries out, and Hisoka – Hisoka remembers when half his limbs were made of aura, and when he rose from the dead, and he doesn't know that he wants to call her a monster.

But she hurt Illumi, she hurt him the way Hisoka was hurt, and Hisoka can't forgive that.

* * *

"Killua. What are you doing?" Father stares across the dimly lit room. At his son, his masterpiece.

"A contest." Killua swallows. "I never much liked our contests."

"Illumi is none of your business."

"He's my family," Killua fires back. "Shouldn't I be even more loyal to my family than my friends? Or at least the same – and is there a difference naysays, except genetics?"

"He's the reason you've rebelled. One day you'll understand."

"I keep hoping I will." Killua's voice cracks, and a tear slides down his cheek. "But the more I learn, the  _less_  I understand you. I don't understand parents at all. Not you, not Mom, not Gon's dad – why don't you care less, and why doesn't Ging care more? What is  _wrong_  with you all?!"

"Is Alluka here to threaten your mother's life again?"

"Why is there one set of rules for you and another for me? Why can Illumi try to kill Alluka and why can you lock her up and place a needle in my head, but I can't hurt Mother? Why can't I control my own life? Why are you so upset by things you can't control?!" Killua hears himself screaming. But it's almost like he's not in control. Like a decade of torture and manipulation and hatred has finally been vented.

"Maybe I'll ask her to kill you instead!" he finishes.

Silva looks sick. The dogs growl at his son.

Killua swallows. He feels so ashamed.

"Killua, stop." Gon's welcome voice floats inside the room. He peeks his head in the door. "Oh, hi, Mr. Zoldyck."

"I know who you are," Silva says coldly.

"Killua – you know she doesn't want to kill people anymore. And neither do you." Gon tiptoes in. He's crying, too, as he holds out his hand. "Let's go, let's just get away from here, and take as many as we can."

"He'll stop us. He'll spy on us. He won't let us go without violence." Killua doubles over. His body is racked with sobs.

Silva watches them. Silently. Without moving.

"Why don't you react?" Killua whispers.

"Killua. We'll make it. We always will." Gon grabs Killua and hauls him backwards.

Killua shakes as he uses his electricity to fry the lock. He was only supposed to do this. He wasn't supposed to yell at Father.

He always, somehow, hoped he could respect Father. And he can't – and that's breaking him, it's really breaking him.

And why isn't Father chasing them?

"Silva knows not to cross his own father," says a dry voice from behind the two boys.

* * *

The human hybrid stands atop Milluki, who is bound in her seemingly endless hair. She's beaten him, with one hand still over her eye.

He's weak. A disaster.

Maha remains free, trading blows with the octopus and the chameleon. But not Milluki.

The woman smiles down at him, without a hint of malice. "If it makes you feel better, I beat Killua back during the ant crisis."

"It doesn't." Because he's always been weaker than Illumi, then Killua. He's always been despised.

"Well, we've been asked to ask you if you want to come with us. After we rescue Illumi, we're going…somewhere else. It's a mission you might find enjoyable." The woman shrugs.

Maha stops short. He raises his hands in surrender.

"What are you doing?" Milluki shrieks.

"Why are you here?"

"To rescue Killua's brother!" The octopus raises a tentacle in the air.

"That's it, really," the chameleon says. "To get them far away from here."

"I thought so. I haven't lost all of my mind yet, eh?" Maha scoffs.

The creatures wait.

"Get him out of here." Maha nods towards Milluki.

His face turns hot. The last time he left – well – no, it was the second to last time, the last time involved that dumb video game - but the time that haunts him - it was to test his drones, so he didn't really leave, he just went to the edge of the mountain and that's when –

Maha knows this now. Why would he ask Milluki to leave?

"Put me down!" Milluki shouts as the woman nods and lifts him over her shoulder.

* * *

"Well, if it isn't the man heralded as Meteor City's savior." Chrollo is shoved to his knees before a short, pudgy man whose presence somehow sucks all the aura from the room.

The room is windowless and built entirely of concrete. It's hotter than the Dark Continent. They're landed kilometers from Meteor City. And now Chrollo is held captive by this imbecile.

The mafia men, even Owl, are cowed in his presence. So Chrollo laughs, laughs to show them he doesn't care. Besides, in his experience, this man was always too smart to react based on emotion. So Chrollo may be as disrespectful as he likes.

"You know I've never really aspired to be a savior." Chrollo raises an eyebrow at the man. "I heard you died."

"Surely you didn't believe that."

"Merely hoped." Chrollo does his best not to react at the blow that sends splashes of blood flying from his nose.

"How did it feel to lose everything?" Chrollo isn't done yet. This incident truly doesn't bother him. In fact, it's familiar.

"It felt like nothing. Because I am nothing. And that's what you were taught, too, but you seem to have forgotten." The man's fingernails dig into Chrollo's neck, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Uvogin was a waste of space, but you let Pakunoda die. She was quite talented, in many ways." The man smirks.

Chrollo clenches his jaw in fury. He's long wondered if the repugnant rumors about Meteor City's mysterious benefactor, the man from another nation, were true. Well, now he wonders no longer.

"You even decided not to kill Hisoka. Is there anything you're good for, besides killing talentless mobs? "

"Did your resurrection send you back to middle school?" Chrollo returns.

"No. After…after that, I rebuilt myself. Focusing on an entire nation and this trash heap was too hard. I'd been blinded by generosity, in a sense. So now I focus on myself, on my home city." The man shrugs. "And in the end, the ant king is dead and rotting, and I am living. So please don't assume I've been shaken in my power."

"I rarely assume."

"You're assuming your friends are coming for you. Because they can't help it, can they, no matter how you  _plead_  and  _beg_  for them to forget you. People can't help loyalty." Gyro squats in front of Chrollo. He looks positively gleeful.

"But I've counted on that. They won't see us enter the city. And in the end, your loyalties will destroy this city."

* * *

"Canary?" Alluka smiles when the door to the dungeon opens.

But it's not Canary. Zeno's hunched figure looms in the light.

 _No_! Illumi immediately tries to maneuver his chained body to shield Alluka. If they think he's a failure, he might as well lower himself further.

_Please forget I wanted to kill her._

"Hi, Grandpa." Alluka steps in front of Illumi, who curses the hubris of childhood.

"I was not expecting to see you here, Alluka." Zeno blinks. This might…complicate matters.

"I'm helping Illumi. You can't hurt him anymore. Or – or I'll ask Nanika to stop you." Alluka balls her hands into fists.

Zeno smiles sadly. "I'm not here to hurt Illumi. I'm here to ask questions."

"I won't tell you where he is," Illumi says automatically. He looks lost, resigned.

"You love him," Zeno says.

Illumi nods, avoiding his grandfather's eyes.  _I'm sorry for disappointing you._

"I never – I never wanted – to disappoint…" Illumi's voice falters.

"I know, Illumi. You're loyal to the Zoldyck family, perhaps to a fault." Zeno glances pointedly towards Alluka.

Shame flickers across Illumi's face. But no, wait, Alluka and Nanika both forgave him. He doesn't – it's all okay, right? Maybe? "If you're going to ask me more, don't bother."

"Hisoka is your husband. Why would loyal Illumi betray him?" Zeno shrugs.

Illumi can't help but love the word  _husband_. He misses Hisoka, he actually misses him. And he's sure it shows on his face.

"I'm not here to ask those questions." Zeno gulps. He wasn't counting on Alluka's presence. Well, there's no point in hiding things, not anymore. She'll find out eventually, anyways. "Your parents said something that…raised my concerns during your confession."

Illumi stares at him. "They didn't say anything wrong."

"Let's say their speculation…on the cause…was highly abnormal." Zeno folds his arms and waits.

Illumi forgets to breathe.  _Don't ask me that – please._

Zeno continues. His voice is soft, creaky. "I already spoke to Milluki."

Illumi understands. Zeno can tell by the illness that crosses his grandson's face, by the way his hands tense, by the way his eyes flit to the floor.

Alluka reaches over to pat Illumi's head, and he forces a smile, but he won't raise his eyes again. Why is Big Brother so upset right now? What are they talking about?

"What did they do to you, Illumi?" Zeno's arms remain crossed.

"Nothing, Grandfather." Illumi looks once more like the scared child who was only two when he was first chained and whipped.

"Illumi." Zeno's own heart is breaking, because he remembers the night teenage Illumi came home, silent, with his short hair a mess and his clothes torn, limping and unable to meet his elders' eyes.

Silva said he would talk to him. And Zeno's always trusted his son. Because Illumi was fine the next morning.

Illumi shrivels against the wall.

"Do you want to know the story of how your mother and your father met?" he tries again.

Alluka claps her hands, still innocent, still spared the horrors of growing up a Zoldyck.

"Certainly," Illumi says, his subservient tone emerging again. He's always been this way, emotionless and dutiful to a fault.

But Zeno remembers the toddler who loved being thrown in the air. He remembers how it felt to hold his first grandchild in his arms. Illumi is special to him, even if he doesn't know it.

"Father was on a mission in Meteor City, and mother saved his life," Illumi recites.

"Really?" Alluka's eyes shine.

"It's far more complicated than that." Zeno swallows. "There was a target desired by the mafia. The mafia client was one of the wealthiest in Meteor City. Poor as – er, I mean, very poor – by our standards, but wealthy by Meteor City." Zeno pauses. "Your mother was the target."

Illumi starts.

"Meteor City prides itself on being a haven for the nameless. As you may imagine, there are those who take advantage of that. The mafia exploits many children there. Some for labor. Some for illicit deals, everything from drugs to murder. Some for…brothels." Zeno sighs in relief to see Alluka's confusion. "Kikyo was one of the lucky ones trained in assassination."

"She was clever enough to realize they'd hired someone to kill her. She used her nen to see Silva coming, and I can only imagine the destruction their fight must have caused." Zeno chuckles. "Silva finally overpowered her."

"But he fell in love with her and saved her?" Alluka offers, ever hopeful.

Zeno hesitates. "When Silva pinned her down, realized she'd been fighting him while heavily pregnant."

Alluka's mouth falls open.

"Even with all the brothels, someone couldn't control their lust for one of the assassin children. And so the mafia deemed she had to die." Zeno shook his head. "She used her manipulation to keep Silva there, listening to her, feeling everything she felt."

"And by the time she had removed her manipulation, Silva was already in love with her. They broke hundreds of years of Zoldyck tradition to kill the client in the mafia instead of her. And they hid there, in Meteor City, until she had the child, and left it on the steps of an orphanage. Then they left."

His voice wavers. "Your mother was always afraid of someone hurting you the same. It seems her paranoia convinced her it'd be better to get it over with than not."

Illumi looks away. There's a lump in his throat.  _Mother_.

Someone hurt her, too.

He'd hoped that by putting the needle in Killua's head, Kil might not feel as much pain as he had when his turn came. That Killua might agree with their parents.

But now – his parents were just acting – on past pain they couldn't forget? Was there no forgetting it?

If he has children, will he do the same? Is he doomed to lose his sanity? Are people nothing more than the worst things that happened to them?

"She shouldn't have had to suffer that. And she especially shouldn't have sent you to the same," Zeno says, fury suddenly in his voice. He can almost understand Kikyo's panic, but Silva – Silva should have known better.

"I am fine," Illumi says in a small voice. "It was part of training, truly, Grandfather."

Alluka frowns.

She's going to ask him, isn't she? Illumi can't bear it.

 _Please forget it. Please don't look at me as weak_. _Please don't blame this for Hisoka._ His experience is nothing but a ghost of the past. He won't repeat it. He won't even think of it.

e won't

"Illumi?"

Illumi looks up to see Killua behind Zeno. His brother's mouth is open, and Killua's eyes – Killua's eyes know exactly what Alluka doesn't yet comprehend.

A strangled cry rises from Illumi's lips, and he cowers like an animal.

The sudden, sharp emotion erases all hope Illumi had of leaving his memories as past.

He hadn't – he hadn't realized how much this would hurt. Killua knows – Killua knows his darkest secret.

"You told me stories about thunderstorms right before you left. You gave the thunder a voice, because I was scared of it. You kissed my head before you left." Killua's voice cracks. "It was that night, wasn't it? You were so different when you returned. You never kissed my head again."

Illumi had felt too dirty to kiss Killua's white waves. His mouth opens and shuts without a word.

He has never masked himself as much as he fancied, has he?

"It's okay, Illumi." Killua steps closer and beckons to Zeno.

Alluka still doesn't understand, but maybe, she will someday. Maybe today, right after they leave. But someone hurt Illumi, and that makes her very sad.

Zeno hands Killua the key, like he's always wanted to do, and he slips it in the locks, one by one.

"They'll be mad," Illumi says. He's never tried to escape his chains. Kalluto and Milluki tried; Killua actually succeeded. But not Illumi.

"I don't care." Killua throws his arms around Illumi, who nearly falls over in shock.

But his little brother's arms – they're around him, tight, and it hurts to breathe, and Killua is crying into Illumi's hair like he used to when they were younger.

"I just want to help you. I don't think less of you. I – I wish you had told me sooner. It's wrong, it's so wrong. It's so fucking wrong." Killua turns back to look into Illumi's eyes. "You don't need to control me, Illumi. No matter where I go or what I do, I already love you."

"I'm not broken," Illumi insists when he realizes he too is crying.

"I don't think of you as broken. I think of you as my brother." Killua presses his forehead against Illumi's. "And I'm – no, our family –  _we_  are going to save you."


	36. Convergence

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

**Convergence**

"Let's get him out of this dungeon." Zeno steps back to let his grandchildren handle this. Alluka and Killua support their bloodstained brother as he shuffles towards the door, and though he's lost his faith in own son, Zeno couldn't be prouder of his family.

Gon pokes his head in the doorway. "Canary has the car ready."

Illumi turns green. He doesn't want Gon knowing, either. But Gon, that idiot, looks at him same as always, and in some ways, Illumi is relieved. Maybe Gon's too simple to care. Or maybe Gon's too wise to care. He's not sure which.

"Where is everyone else?" Alluka asks.

"Last we heard, Kalluto and Hisoka were heading for a confrontation with Mother." Killua grimaces. If Hisoka knows what Mother did to Illumi, he doesn't trust the clown – his brother-in-law, he reminds himself – to spare her.

"With Amane," Canary adds. Worry tinges her voice.

"You have to come with us," Gon says.

Canary hesitates. "My job…"

"It's okay, Canary. I think it's best if you, Amane, and Tsubone all leave with my grandchildren." Zeno sighs. "If you ever return, I suggest marrying Amane first to circumvent our rules."

Canary flushes. "How long have you known?"

"She's been sending you googly eyes since Killua escaped with – with my grand _daughter_." Zeno snorts.

He doesn't know what to make of Alluka. He never has. But at this point, what's the harm in calling her  _her_?

A throat clears behind him.

"Oh hey, Granddad." Zeno nods to Maha. The old man glides down the hall, with his clothing torn from whatever battle he just escaped. "Let us old ones deal with your parents. You ought to go."

Illumi flinches again, because of course Maha knows too. Now more people know what happened, more people have seen him cry, more people see him unable to walk –

Maha reaches up to place a hand on Illumi's forehead, silencing Illumi's inner critic. A sad smile adorns his aged face. The man who rarely speaks finally opens his mouth. "Go, Illumi."

Illumi's throat constricts. His great-great grandfather doesn't judge him. His grandfather doesn't, and neither do his siblings. Only his parents.

Maybe it's okay to be gay. Maybe it's okay to have been raped. Maybe neither of those indicates anything wrong with him.

* * *

Kikyo raises her visor. Her eyes, black like Illumi's, bore into Hisoka. "You – you're to blame for all of this – nothing from Meteor City is good – nothing!"

"My friends are!" Kalluto pipes up. "Hisoka  _and_  the Phantom Troupe!"

"Silence, Kalluto," Kikyo snaps, and the child's mouth closes.

He looks terrified. Hisoka can only imagine that Kalluto has endured her cruelty all his short life.

"Was your mother a prostitute? She probably only had you because the customers wanted to fuck a pregnant woman." Kikyo knows what she's echoing, but no, no, there's no way. That's too much a coincidence. This flamboyant, murderous queer cannot be her friend's – her  _acquaintance's_  – adorable two-year-old.

"Oh, I know my mother didn't want me. On the bright side, that also means she never chained me up for falling in love," Hisoka replies with a bitter smirk. "Frankly, between Illumi and myself, I think I got the better end of the deal."

Kikyo hisses. "Scum."

" _You're_  from Meteor City yourself," Tsubone finally retorts.

Hisoka freezes as Kikyo's eyes gleam. "What do you know?"

"A lot," she says sweetly.

"Don't fall for it. She's manipulating you," Kalluto says sharply.

"I don't think she is. I think she wants us to think she is, so she can manipulate us later. Quite a web, mmm?" Hisoka forces himself to laugh like he doesn't care.

He wants to shout at her. To ask her if she knows what it's like to have your body stolen from you, and your dreams on the most random of nights, and sometimes afternoons you see someone who looks like Him. But Hisoka will not let her know his secret. Only Illumi.

"Oh, I see, you're smart despite your appearance," Kikyo says. "Oh, and don't act superior to me, Tsubone. You let your granddaughter stay in this life, after all."

"Amane made her own choice," Tsubone says firmly.

Amane hesitates. She didn't have much of one. Of course she chose to stay with the only life she knew; her only regret was recently, when she realize she could never marry Canary.

But at least she's never been tortured like the Zoldyck children. Her life hasn't been so terrible.

"Everyone  _stop_!" Killua races into the room, panting.

Hisoka sees no new terror on Killua's face. He must have Illumi.

Kikyo's face alights. "Kil!"

Kalluto looks crushed at his mother's clear favoritism. Hisoka seethes.

"Grandfather and Maha are about to 'beat Father's ass.' Their words, not mine," Killua announces. "You might want to get in on that, Mother. Seeing as  _you_  were the cause of all of this."

He points to his mother. His voice shakes. "I know what you did. To Illumi and Milluki! I'll  _never_  forgive you!"

Elation explodes inside Kikyo. She claps her hands against her cheeks, but her gasp is one of joy instead of pain. She never set anything up, and it wasn't even her idea.

But if her son believes so, she's honored. With this rage, he will be harder to break. "You're grown more cold, Kil!"

Killua's mouth falls open.

"Now I know where Illumi got his issues from," Hisoka quips, though his stomach turns.

This bitch – this crazy, crazy, bitch –

"I don't say that because I don't want to. I  _want_  to forgive you, but I don't think I can, and it  _hurts_." Killua lets his tears fall. He won't give his mother any satisfaction anymore. Even if that means showing more generosity than he feels.

"We're leaving," Killua announces. "All of us – you too, Amane and Tsubone. On Grandpa's orders Kalluto, let's go."

But Kalluto stares at his mother. Hisoka, too, remains where he stands.

They've hurt Illumi and his second brother. They've abused Alluka and Nanika, and neglected Kalluto. In fact, if the Spiders weren't so kind, Kalluto, now, he could have turned out like Hisoka.

Despite what Killua states, to Hisoka, that is unforgiveable.

"Not yet." Hisoka prepares to choke Kikyo with bungee gum. At this point, he is unwilling to leave Kikyo without at least decapitating her.

"Don't do it, Hisoka. Don't give her what she wants," Killua begs. "Illumi's waiting for you!"

Illumi… Hisoka wants to see him. But he also needs vengeance for Illumi. As substitute for the vengeance Hisoka will never have for himself.

"Why?" Kalluto interrupts everyone's thoughts, a waver in his shriek. His shriek that sounds quite like his mother's. "I…why was I not good enough, Mother? Mommy?"

Killua grabs at Kalluto, but his brother throws paper towards him. He doubles over and screams. " _Why_?!"

Hisoka glances towards Illumi's brother, to the impulsive brat he's grown somewhat fond of.

 _Illumi's waiting for you…no, for_ us.

Kalluto hurls more paper towards Hisoka as he grabs him, but bungee gum stops all the pieces.

The paper has no effect, just like his life. Kalluto sobs. He'd thought he was recovering, he's thought he was past jealousy – and then Mother was in front of him and he realized everything still  _hurt_.

Hisoka's hands wrap around Kalluto's waist. He hoists his little brother-in-law high in his arms, and Kalluto loses the desire to fight to stay.

"Let's go see Illumi, kid." Hisoka backs out the door, but not before handing Kikyo one last glare.

Killua grabs Amane and Tsubone. With his speed lightning, Kikyo is soon left on her own.

But that's okay. Because, with the immediate threat gone, Kikyo finally lowers her powers of denial.

She knows where Hisoka comes from. Those cheekbones are undeniable. Those cheekbones are why Illuna was moved from assassination to prostitution in the first place.

And, as she recalls, so long as she knows where her enemy comes from, she can tell where he is going.

Now, Zeno and Maha are the only obstacles in their way.

* * *

Hisoka shoves Kalluto into the back of the car, then squeezes himself inside. The old lady and her granddaughter pile behind him, while Killua and Gon climb in the front.

His heart – his dumb, poetic heart – skips a beat.

Illumi, bruised and bloodied and alive, sit there, with Alluka's arms wrapped around him. Alluka gasps at the Kalluto's tear-streaked face and tackles him in a bear hug.

Illumi straightens. His eyes don't leave Hisoka's. His lips part.

Hisoka tries to talk, but as Canary presses down on the gas pedal and they speed towards the base of Kukuroo Mountain, he finds himself at a loss for words. The skin on Illumi's arms is half-peeled, and he's missing all his fingernails.

Hisoka's seen Feitan torture before, but Illumi looks worse than all of Feitan's victims combined.

"I didn't tell them where you were," Illumi finally whispers.

How very like his husband. Dutiful. Hisoka coughs to hide his trembling chin. "You mean you're not planning on fulfilling our contract after all?"

"I gave that up a while ago." Illumi shivers.

He can tell – maybe through nen, maybe through observation and deduction – that everyone here, save his two youngest siblings, knows.

But his siblings love him. They don't despise him for what was done to him.

And Hisoka knows, and Hisoka is right here, and relieved to see him.

Illumi holds out his hand, and Hisoka wastes no time snatching it. He presses his mouth against Illumi's fingernail-less fingers.

Hisoka clamors through the crowded car to hold Illumi, to press him against his chest like he's the treasure he never knew he wanted.

Hisoka, of all people, is crying and gasping for breath, cradling his husband in his arms. Snot and ears dribble down his cheeks, and his hair sags from its gelled perfection. And he wouldn't want this any other way.

He presses his salted lips to Illumi's bruised, bloody ones.

Tsubone's sobs nearly drown out the rest of theirs, but then Killua breaks the mood.

"Don't do it in the car!" Killua squawks from the front.

* * *

Canary screeches to a halt at the edge of the testing gate. Zebro steps outside his home to point across the street. A single nod is all he needs to communicate his support.

A larger limousine pulls up across the street, and Ikalgo sticks his head out of the driver's side. "Get in, folks. We're escaping in style!"

Meleoron jerks open the limo's doors. "We've got to ditch your car. I'm sure there's a tracking device somewhere."

"Did you steal it?" Gon asks suspiciously.

"Borrowed, thank you very much." Ikalgo sniffs.

Amane shrieks as soon as she climbs inside to see not just the chameleon, but Milluki sitting next to a woman with one eye covered by her hand, a large bearded man, and a small girl identical to Alluka.

Well, no – her eyes and mouth are all black.

"They're twins now," Illumi says woozily. He offers Alluka his fondest smile.

Tsubone chokes, but Canary laughs.

"I love it!"

"We do, too," Alluka says. She reaches out to pat Nanika's head. "She's really tired after transporting half of us to Meteor City."

"Oh…after Lucilfer?" Tsubone raises her eyebrows.

"He's our friend, too." Gon crosses his arms.

"And your friend's boyfriend," Hisoka can't resist adding.

"We need to help them," Palm says, squinting her one open eye. "They're not flying into Meteor City. It looks like they're expecting his friends. Meleoron has already contacted Morel, but I'm waiting on Kurapika to reply. They haven't met up yet, either."

Milluki looks from Palm to Alluka and Nanika, and back again.

"Hi," Alluka says finally.

"It's nice to meet both twins," Milluki says awkwardly.

"You never really feared us, did you?" Alluka smiles at him. Nanika nods drowsily.

Milluki shakes his head. More his parents than Alluka. Always his parents. Because he's a coward.

Still, despite his self-loathing, a grin spreads across his face as both girls embrace him.

He can't recall the last time he's been hugged. Maybe this trip outside won't be awful after all.

"Hand…hand…" Nanika stands as the limo takes off. She gestures towards Illumi.

"You're not rested," Beyond says.

"Illumi is sick," Nanika says obstinately. She grabs her brother's hands before he can protest, and squeezes.

The entire car chills with the power filling it.

"Yay," says Nanika, stumbling back.

Illumi's hand flies out to catch her as she sways again. "Nanika, thank you."

As he lays his sister on the seat besides him, and gives Kalluto a much-needed hug, Tsubone takes back every criticism she's ever thought about Master Illumi.

He's changed.

* * *

"I cannot believe. We are back on a ship," Hisoka moans that night. He stands at the porthole, peering out into the darkness.

"One you're not captain of, even," Illumi remarks, sitting nervously on their bed.

Of course, the ship is not bound for Meteor City – if any ships are, they wouldn't advertise it. But it is heading in the correct direction, and shorter distance will take some of the burden off Nanika once she recovers tonight.

"I miss being captain. Did you know, both me and the First Mate were fakes?" Hisoka cackles.

"You're kidding." Illumi scoffs.

"Mercyn's true name was Pariston Hill. He's not as skilled at disguise as you or I. Or half as smart as he thinks he is." Hisoka snorts. "But I'm sure he'll be able to guide them back."

"I mean if you managed the maiden voyage while being hunted, I'm sure the former Chairman of the Hunter Association can manage the return voyage," Illumi says sarcastically.

"I love hearing you pretend to joke," Hisoka says. He leaps onto the bed to sit besides Illumi.

Hisoka rubs Illumi's shoulders. "I'm glad Nanika healed you."

"I don't really deserve it." Illumi half-smiles. "I've hurt my family in more ways than I've helped.  _Through_  my efforts to help."

"And yet, they love you." Hisoka swallows. "I envy you that."

"Oh?" Illumi turns to his husband. "I think Killua and the others are quite fond of you."

"I'm glad. Strangely enough." Hisoka leans forward to kiss Illumi. Gently, without his usual ferocity. "Because I love you."

He lets the words simmer as he deepens their kiss. He once swore he'd never say them again, not after Gyro. Now he's relieved to say them to someone who cares for him.

"You didn't need to say it. I already knew." Illumi kisses the teardrop on under Hisoka's left eye, and then the star below his right.

"You  _love_  that I said it," Hisoka protests, rolling Illumi back onto their bed.

He entwines his hands with Illumi's and grins down at him. "Unless you'd rather I  _make_  it than say it?"

"That's a false dichotomy," Illumi mutters.

"So is that a yes?"

Warmth floods Illumi from his hips to his heart. "Yes."

* * *

"You?" Ging Freecs hates visiting Meteor City – he has since taking Gon from here nearly a decade and a half ago. The last thing he needed was a phone call from Pariston Hill.

"I'm on my voyage back," sings the man's slippery voice.

"That's nice."

"Found what you're looking for?"

"Never have and never will." Though it's best if Pariston thinks he's here for the same old reason.

"Well, rumor has it your son, the Spiders, and the Zoldycks are all about to converge on Meteor City." Pariston laughs heartily. "I wouldn't wish that disaster on anyone."

Ging guffaws. Frankly, the more experienced Nen users here, the better. The only wrench he can see is his son, though hopefully Gon knows not to interfere by now. "It's not a disaster. It's an opportunity."


	37. The Vengeance of Children

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

**The Vengeance of Children**

He's tortured his son since infancy, poisoned him since he could eat, taught him to kill since he could walk. And yet, somehow, Zeno Zoldyck had never envisioned his son as a monster, or himself as the monster's creator.

"How could you?" Zeno wipes his eyes, as Silva's dogs – the love of dogs, at least, shared between parent and son – growl at him. "I cannot believe it took me forty-plus years to realize I've failed as a parent."

Silva regards his father coldly. "You have not."

Zeno feels himself flailing. Grabbing for any blame that is not himself. "I let you marry that bitch."

Kikyo sucks in her breath from the doorway, where Maha holds her. She practically vibrates with hatred.

Zeno sees hatred for him, but Silva sees hatred for herself. Silva's face grows red with fury. "If you  _ever_  speak like that about my wife again, I will kill you, old man."

Zeno raises an eyebrow, but remains quiet.

Kikyo's sobs begin to grow. She's failed, she's failed again.

_Your children will save you._

So why have hers turned out this way? Why are they reminders that she can never live beyond what happened in that place? Why do they torment her?

Was Killua, the one who looked like a Zoldyck, the one who looked like Silva, not good enough?

"Kikyo." Silva looks at her. He's always seen beyond her visor. He's seen her eyes, and beyond – he's seen to her, to whatever is really her.

Ignoring his father, Silva strides towards Kikyo. He lifts his wife in his arms, the way he carried her when they were first married, the way that made her heart fill with hope.

He turns back to Zeno and Maha. "None of that was Kikyo's fault. I am tired of you looking down on her, old men. As proof: everything that was done was  _my_  idea."

Zeno turns green.

Silva strides away, directing his words towards Kikyo. "We will make this right."

Zeno rushes towards the door, but Maha stops him with a gentle hand on his arm.

"How can he right what he doesn't even see as wrong?" Zeno simmers.

How could  _he_ , Zeno? Just now, he couldn't even face his own responsibility for his son?

He hopes Silva is lying, but Silva never lies. Not that Zeno knows his son well after all.

Maha stays silent, waiting, until his great-grandson has fled the mansion. He has no desire to fight him, yet, for once, he has no desire to stop the certain coming conflict. "He can't."

* * *

The golden rays of the rising sun peek through heaps of trash. The smell has dissipated during the cool night, but it's sure to return soon. And outside the ramshackle cabin in which they spent their night, the Phantom Troupe finds surrounded by children.

Children, desperate for food, fun, attention. Curious at the newcomers. Excited to meet the legendary Spiders.

This place, Kurapika understands, is the one place they do not have to hide. This godforsaken place is to Chrollo what Kurapika's Kurta village is to him.

Leorio paces as he barks into a phone. Kurapika feels almost nauseated by his friend's jumpiness, but honestly, his illness may just be the work of his own fear.

Palm hasn't been able to identify Chrollo's location. The Spiders are lost without communication. Even as he plans, Kurapika mourns that he's first experienced Meteor City without Chrollo.

"That man transforms phone calls into an art-form," Cheadle says, settling besides Kurapika. She points to a stomping Leorio.

"Heh." Kurapika has to laugh. "He's a good balance to me."

"All you and your friends balance each other well. You're lucky." Cheadle adjusts her glasses. "The Zodiacs could use people like Gon and Killua, too. Most of us were loyalists to Netero, excepting Pariston and Ging. I used to wish we all were allies."

"You don't now?"

"I wish we could all get along. I don't wish for identical viewpoints." Cheadle wraps her arms around her knees. "Perhaps, if I remove the deaths in the Hunter Exam, that isn't betraying Netero."

"I think it would be a way to honor him, actually." Kurapika swallows. "You're righting what he did wrong, correct? It shows you cared."

"You want to do the same for Chrollo," Cheadle says, eying him.

He nods. "But if I do…I'm betraying my family. My clan."

"Someday you'll learn, Kurapika. You can't betray the dead." Cheadle clears her throat as Leorio hangs up. "What did Morel say?"

Leorio blows out his breath. "Sounds like Knov is already interviewing people about the disappearances. We can take the kids to him and Morel. Shoot and Knuckle are on their way to us. We're gonna find your goddamn Spider, Kurapika."

"And Gon and Killua arrive by tonight," Cheadle adds, nodding towards Kurapika.

Kurapika tries to force himself to hope. But where is Chrollo? Palm couldn't identify the location.

Palm couldn't –

Palm, the powerful ant –

Couldn't.

He knows, somehow, that if the mafia has deviated from their planned route, they're plotting. Most likely they're expecting the Troupe to appear, and hoping to slaughter them all. If he's honest, most likely their thoughts are similar to Kurapika's in Yorknew.

But as Kurapika surveys the children laughing around them, he can't quite believe that.

The Spiders are popular here. No one would risk slaughtering them all in Meteor City.

Something else is happening, but he can't parse it out. Like the failure he is.

He failed Pairo, and he's about to fail Chrollo too.

* * *

"Is that a sword?" A little boy with a cleft in his lip tugs on Feitan's umbrella.

"No," he says uncomfortably.

"It's an umbrella," Oito says quickly, tugging it free from Feitan's grasp. "For blocking the rain. See?"

"Oooh!" The kid grins wide despite his misshapen smile.

Seated on her mother's lap, Woble tries to stick the umbrella in her mouth. Feitan snatches it away, brushing off a moment of uncharacteristic panic.

"It's also a sword." His shoulders slump as he withdraws the blade from the umbrella's center. He might as well give them fun. But should children have fun with swords?

Oito offers him an understanding smile.

"Wowwwww." Three grimy kids clamor around Feitan, and he nearly drops the sword in surprise.

He hasn't dropped a sword in years.

 _Brats_. Making him mess up.

"Teach us!" The tallest kid, a girl with grimy blond hair and two black eyes, stomps her foot. "

"You can't learn so fast," Feitan retorts. If he knows Meteor City kids, that's all he needs to say.

"We'll learn faster!" The freckled boy shakes his fist in Feitan's face.

Feitan's lips spread into a grin.  _Gotcha_. "I know."

At the other end of their cabin, Machi stitches a woman's skirt. But as he watches her, he notices Machi stealing glances towards him. She watched his battle dance with a soft smile on her mouth.

* * *

Kurapika's about to drown in misery when his phone rings.

 _Chrollo_.

 _But his phone's been off_. Kurapika scrambles to answer it, waving towards Melody and Shizuku, the closest two to him.

"H – Hello?"

"Is this the Chain Vigilante?" asks a crisp voice. Clean. Thick. Dark. As Kurapika expected of a mafia official.

Yet Melody pales, and Shizuku has to hold her upright.

Kurapika watches her with a sinking sensation. What has she overheard?

The remainder of the troupe gather around him, excepting Oito and Feitan, who remain with the children as they try to mask their anxious expressions with bright laughter and distracting play.

"I don't ask twice." The voice speaks again.

The Troupe turns to him – some with anger, some with resignation. Leorio, too, with a sad expression. Oito, with compassion.

Kurapika swallows. "That's me."

It hurts.

It hurts to admit it.

 _Vigilante_.

 _Extorter_.

 _Murderer_.

And Chrollo knows this, and his friends know this, and they love him. Even if his parents and sister and Pairo wouldn't anymore.

Kurapika feels himself vacillating wildly between hope and despair, self-loathing and self-forgiveness. It's dizzying.

"I have news for you." Every word the man speaks is what Kurapika would have imagined. And yet, he's not soothed by this at all.

"Is it your name?" Phinks shouts.

Kurapika jerks. You know, as long as he's taking responsibility for his actions, he might as well acknowledge the past. "Did you learn nothing from Yorknew?"

"I can't believe I agree with Chain Boy," Nobunaga grumbles, to Phinks' chagrin.

"What is your news?" Kurapika asks. "Let me speak to your hostage."

"You're not in a position to make demands. Unlike Yorknew, if I recall. You have nothing and no one of value with you." The man's voice is matter-of-fact, and Kurapika hates him for being correct.

"I'd say that no matter who your company was. Don't fear, there's nothing special I have against the Phantom Troupe."

"Then why do you have Chrollo?" Kurapika challenges.

"Do I need a reason?"

This is abnormal. A mafia official should mention Yorknew; he clearly knows about the massacre. Kurapika's heart quickens.

"Just let me hear his voice."

"Are you begging?"

"I've never been ashamed of begging when it's the best option." He's begged for eyes before, though it didn't work, so he broke a man's arm. In a church.

"That's good to here. We have nothing to be proud of, do we?"

"Who's we?" Phinks growls, but quietly, to Oito. She shrugs.

"Say something," says the man through the phone.

"Something," says Chrollo's slick voice.

"Danchou," breathes Bonolenov.

Kurapika rolls his eyes. Just like Chrollo. Calm. Mysterious. And devoid of any clue that might help them.

"Your murderous friend is about to go on trial. Meteor City style." The man laughs. "I suggest you all come as witnesses."

"I know where that is," Franklin blurts.

"And then you slaughter us?" Kurapika counters.

"Then he'll be executed. Meteor City isn't one to wait around for justice. We make our own."

"You're playing something," Kurapika pushes. Something is wrong here. Something is very wrong.

The man hangs up.

Kurapika turns towards his companions. He can't help it – his eyes have gone scarlet.

Phinks swallows at the sight. He looks a little ashamed, as if finally, finally, he recalls the Kurta massacre.

"Kurapika – he's not a mafia member. He can't be." Melody speaks as quickly as she can. "Whatever you heard – he sounded calm – his heartbeat was full of sadism and joy. Whatever he has planned, he's  _excited_."

* * *

Illumi wipes his eyes as Beyond finishes talking. Tsubone shakes with fury, and Canary holds a weeping Amane.

The rest of his siblings look at him with dead eyes.

Mother and Father. They knew who Nanika was. And why she was in Alluka.

And yet they let Illumi explore her abilities, as if they were a mystery. They acted horrified, terrified, and of course Illumi wanted to protect them.

They told him she was a thing, not a family member. They locked her away.

"It's likely they truly didn't know your sisters' powers, even if they knew her species," Meleoron offers.

"I never spoke to them," Nanika adds.

"That's no excuse," Hisoka growls from besides Illumi.

They could have told him. Then, he would have tried to free her instead of killing her. Illumi shudders. He bends over to rest his head in his hands.

Perhaps. Perhaps he would have killed her anyways. That was always the safest option.

He doesn't know, and he's afraid to find out.

A muscular arm wraps around him.

"The good news," Hisoka whispers in his ear, "is you can't erase how you've changed, so everyone's safe from Illumi now."

Illumi glances upwards. Hisoka seems to like his change. Killua and Kalluto, Alluka and Nanika too.

"Especially Illumi himself." Hisoka winks, and Illumi can't resist returning a grateful smile.

He licks his lips. He has to say it one more time. "Nanika, Alluka…I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Nanika says. "You love us now."

"Besides, you've already said sorry," Alluka adds, with an impish smirk.

"Oh, so Alluka's going to be the sassy one?" Milluki sniffs.

"No, that's me," Kalluto protests.

"No, you're the angry one," Killua teases.

"Illumi, what is it?" Gon, of all people, notices the older man's mouth opening.

Illumi briefly wonders if he'll someday accept Gon as a brother, of sorts.

"I feel…like I never knew my parents. But I had all the pieces. Why didn't I put them together?" Illumi tugs on his hair.

"Trauma," Palm says bluntly.

Illumi frowns.

"Al six of you kids are abused and traumatized, whether you want to admit it or not. Actually, seven – I'm counting Gon. But…" Palm grows a soft smile on her face. She twirls a strand of dark hair around her finger. "But you'll be okay. In the end. Because you have each other."

She turns her eyes towards Gon and Killua. "You helped show me that once. Now it's my turn."

"We're not so bad," Milluki protests, though Illumi, for once, is silent.

Illumi can't disagree, and it hurts – it hurts to admit he's been hurt. Hisoka's hand strokes his back, grounding him.

Palm points towards Milluki. "You have a  _Death Note_  themed notebook in your pocket."

"So what?" Milluki clutches the precious notebook to his chest.

"So if you have any reading comprehension, you know Light wasn't supposed to have it. The theme is that playing God with someone else's life – even if you think you're only killing sinners – is still, in the end, sin. Pride, I think." Palm tilts her head.

"How is a Death Note any different than an assassin?"

"I don't consider myself justice," Milluki says after a moment. In fact, he scoffs at the idea. He's never even tried. Or cared.

Because caring never got him anywhere.

"So a person holding a Death Note is nobler than an assassin." Palm leans forward, eyes sparkling. "In that case, maybe you're like Misa, killing just to get close to someone. In this case, your parents instead of Light. Was Misa stable? Are you?"

Milluki goggles at this crazy Ant woman. She's – she's beautiful, and she knows anime, and this deep discussion on literature is really all he's ever wanted, but – but not at the expense of – of facing –

He laughs to himself.

He doesn't want to face his family.

That's the surest sign of trauma, isn't it?

"You forget," Milluki says bitterly, "Misa never recovers."

"She didn't have friends. You do." Palm has obviously been expecting this reply. She leaps to her feet and crosses the room to take Milluki's hands. "Listen, Milluki – if I'm recovering, you can. Ask Gon and Killua how crazy I was."

"I had to stalk her date with Gon," Killua admits.

"So you were stalking us on purpose!" Palm whirls around to shake her fist at him.

"You were on a date with his crush!" Kalluto exclaims. "How could he not?"

Hisoka claps his hands against his cheeks and stomps his feet. "Oh my god, Kalluto, you just said it! You did! I'm so happy to witness this day!"

Illumi narrows his eyes at Gon.

"Huh?" Gon turns to Kalluto. "But I, like, don't have nen anymore."

Killua gulps. He's very, very aware of Ikalgo and Meleoron grinning, Beyond overjoyed, and the butlers fascinated. Kalluto is smirking, Nanika and Alluka are bound with rapture, Milluki is completely unfazed. Hisoka snickers, and Illumi is ten thousand percent dumbfounded.

"I don't care about that –" Killua chokes as Gon's hug forces all the air out of his lungs.

The one thing that could make this better is Illumi's voice saying, "I'm happy for you, Killua."

* * *

Chrollo's knees are beginning to ache from kneeling. He was snuck into the city late at night, in a trunk. And now he's in the city jail, chained to the wall, in an expansive, private cell that seems to mock his imprisonment.

For all his crimes, Chrollo has never been to Meteor City's jail before. It's cleaner than he expected, here in the lower levels. The upper levels they passed, the ones with the crowded cells of people to publically humiliate before their release, were smeared with rotting vomit, feces, and blood.

But the lower levels are for the damned. And their sandstone walls are, ironically, pristine.

"It's going to happen again. Life cycles, over and over and over. You can't keep your followers from killing themselves for you." Gyro licks his lips. He's beaming with malice. But, as always, Gyro's tone differs from everything he shows.

"That's what always happens. Tale as old as time. Children spend their lives seeking vengeance for their childhood. They never escape. And there are only two outcomes: they'll die for their parents, or their parents will die for them."

"Actually, my mother's murder had nothing to do with me." Chrollo tries to forget Pakunoda, who died for him, her Boss. Shalnark and Kortopi, who did the same. They don't exist. He's better if he pretends they don't exist.

But is he?

Gyro's finger presses into the cross between Chrollo's eyes. He winces at the resulting agony. He can feel his nen draining again, continually.

"Oh, but doesn't it? Now, whoever raped and left her bowels draped across her heart for you to see probably didn't think of you. But your mother has everything to do with who you've become, doesn't it?"  
Gyro runs his hand through Chrollo's thick hair, as if he were his son or something. Chrollo grinds his teeth.

"The way I see it, you were one of the unlucky ones. With a loving mother, who gave you contagious love you gave to your spiders."

Chrollo tries not to show his fury. He will never regret his mother. She loved him, and he needed her, and he mourns her death. She meant so much he even told Kurapika about her.

"I'm grateful I was spared the curse of being loved. And of loving. Despite yourself, you find yourself wanting both. To give love to your spiders. To receive the love of your Kurta boy."

Chrollo's heart thuds. He knows about Kurapika's eyes?

Is he the one who took out the hit on Kurapika in the first place?

 _How_  did he know he loves him?

Chrollo winces. He told Gyro himself, didn't he? By accepting Illumi's offer, by trading in his freedom for Kurapika's life.

There's no hiding that, is there?

Gyro studies the cracked ceiling. "People die all the time, because they're slaves to love. I will set them free."

"You don't care about their freedom." Chrollo regards him evenly.

"You're right. I don't. I care about my own motives. Because I too want to destroy the place my father came from. Like a hypocrite."

Gyro lights a cigarette. Embers glow on the tip, and he flicks them into Chrollo's face. "Do you see now? Humanity is hopeless. The world would be better without us."

"Is that your plan? To start genocide?" Chrollo mocks lightly. "A word of advice: it's easiest if you kill the children first. From experience."

"Ah yes, and yet you love your Kurta."

"I've never been wise."

"Nonsense. You pride yourself on your plans, your knowledge, your wisdom. You'd be Meteor City's first intellectual if you could." Gyro pauses. "So why risk it all with the very child whose parents you stole?"

Chrollo hesitates. First of all, Kurapika is not a child, but then, he's heard Gyro likes children. Paku said as much.

"Were you just lonely?"

Chrollo closes his eyes.

 _I'm so lonely_ , Kurapika cried one night. And Chrollo held him, and told him, and told him,  _I am here_.

Because of course he was lonely, too. Empty. Always reaching for fulfillment he will never receive.

Because Gyro is correct. He's posturing. His fancy coats, his massive collection of books, his greed – they are all symptoms.

He's a lonely child.

That's why he needs his friends. That's why he loves them so much.

That's why he steals. To connect to people through objects.

That's why he kills. From the mafia, for abusing Meteor City, for leaving him and his friends lonely.

From the Kurtas, who treated an outsider like him – outsiders like the spiders – like trash.

They rejected him. All he'd wanted was to learn from them, and see their eyes.

And then, humiliated by their coldness, he crafted a plan to kill them.

_We reject no one, so take nothing from us._

Gyro is correct.

Ultimately, Chrollo's still a child, a child lashing out, the same as Illumi and Hisoka – okay, Illumi lashes inward. The same as Kurapika, Kurapika with those beautiful, molten red eyes.

 _Oh_.

Red eyes.

Chrollo sees now, he sees exactly what Gyro is doing.

Chrollo swallows and lowers his head.  _I'm an idiot._

"Are you ready for  _your_  trial?" Gyro emphasizes the word, knowing that Chrollo knows, that of course the head of the Spiders is intelligent enough to see through his plan. He's given him just enough information.

Chrollo smiles, as expected of such a talented actor. He won't surrender, even if he sees the truth.

"If what you say is true, you should know I've been ready all my life."


	38. The Trial of a Guilty Man

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

**The Trial of a Guilty Man**

Despite the constant babble, Kurapika can hear nothing save the drumming of his own heart in his ears. Leorio and Oito hold him by his elbows, a sure sign that they don't trust him to control himself – and they probably shouldn't. Right now, he's begrudgingly grateful to them.

Nobunaga and Franklin shove the clusters of odorous, grimy people out of their way so that the rest of the Spiders can pass.

Alcohol splashes onto Kurapika's tunic. He tries not to grimace when he sees the drunkard sneer at him, as if begging for a fight.

"Wonderful misfits, the lot of them," Leorio mutters in Kurapika's ear.

"Up ahead," Phinks says, directly behind Oito. He cradles Woble against his chest, safe from the crowds. "The courthouse."

Kurapika walks on on his tiptoes. He cranes his neck to see a crumbling building with sandstone pillars. It must have been majestic two hundred years ago; now, its beauty is forsaken. Its sole purpose is function.

A ramshackle stage further mars the side of the courthouse. Flies buzz around the lone post, which is crawling with dried blood. Kurapika's anxiety increases when he sees stocks and pillories to the side.

"That's the circus Hisoka used to work in." Shizuku distracts the Kurta by pointing to a rainbowed tent down a seedy side street. Its colors are a shock to Kurapika, who has only ever seen shades of faded tan since coming to Meteor City.

"And the mansion behind it is where he grew up," Nobunaga adds sarcastically.

The crickety house, built of pale wood, is at least three stories tall – two stories taller than most of Meteor City's buildings and three stories taller than the majority of residences, which are makeshift tents and shanties.

"I thought he was poor," Cheadle remarks.

"He was, but his mother wasn't. She became the concubine of one of Meteor City's myriad benefactors," says Machi.

"Mostly mafia members, no doubt?" Oito looks at the house with curiosity.

"Yes. No doubt she's no longer there, though. If she's alive, she's too old and probably down there." Phinks flushes slightly at he points to the sprawling, squat building beyond the circus.

"Huh?" Leorio frowns.

"A brothel." Kurapika says quietly. His heart stirs.

"The next street is Orphan Row." Phinks nods. "Some orphans live there, supplied by the mafia. Trained in servanthood or assassination if they're lucky. Others are trained to be sent back to…the pleasure houses."

Oito looks ill. "Children."

Nobunaga turns his eyes to sear Kurapika's. "Paku was one of those."

"She ran off, dragging Uvo and I from the slave labor division to help her." Franklin laughs sadly. "And later saved Chrollo and Machi from the streets. We kept moving so they wouldn't find us. Eventually we took in Feitan after he escaped from the orphanage, too."

Feitan shifts uncomfortably. "You say too much."

"No, if he claims to care for Danchou, he should know." Phinks pulls Woble closer to his chest. Oito's hand brushes his hips, a gentle reminder that she loves him.

Feitan wishes he could hold Machi and their child close, too, but Machi would hate it. Anyhow, this is his problem, his insecurity. Damn, he hates feeling protective.

"We beat a few tourists into teaching us nen. That's when Danchou came up the idea to form the Spiders." Nobunaga shakes his head.

Franklin guffaws. He has to force himself to laugh, of course. "That's when he first reached out to our rivals. Phinks and Shalnark were our rivals for food where we on the outskirts. We eventually converted both of them."

"Ha! You liar. We converted  _you_ ," Phinks retorts.

"We're here." Shizuku announces unnecessarily as they step up to the courthouse.

"Outta the way!"

Feitan shoves Kurapika back, as if protective of him for now. A short, squat man walks forward. A band of hulking guards shove the unfortunates out of this important man's way.

Kurapika was expecting someone in expensive embroidered silk, perhaps adorned with luxurious jewelry. Instead, the man is wrapped in a thick down coat that obscures his face.

Perhaps, here, luxury simply means a thick coat.

"Gyro," Phinks growls.

Though the crowd is plenty loud, the man turns his head straight to Phinks.

Melody looks ill.

"Who?" Kurapika asks.

"I can't." Melody shakes. Shizuku grabs the other woman to hold her upright. "He's – his heartbeat – it's the man on the phone – he's  _terrible_!"

Kurapika growls. Of course he's terrible. This man has Chrollo. "Do you know him?"

The spiders glance at each other.

"He and Hisoka's benefactor one and the same," Feitan says at last.

"Hisoka." Nobunaga curls his fist.

"Hisoka never liked to speak of him," Machi says, surprising herself. For once, her instincts tell her Hisoka has nothing to do with this debacle.

A throng of Gyro's guards pass, and Feitan winces when he notices the small one in front, the one out of place.

The Owl from Yorknew.

The Owl's eyes land on his, and Feitan does his best to sneer.

He can't say he blames the man, but still. That was past. In present, Owl hurting Feitan's boss. Feitan will not forgive him. And he won't feel guilt.

The guards part as they enter the courthouse, revealing a figure between them. His hands are behind his back, and he's pulled forth by a chain that wraps around his neck like a dog.

Kurapika's pulse races. He only glimpsed his back, yes, but he knows Chrollo's body. Probably better than most – a fact that embarrasses him a little.

His voice is ravaged with grief. "They already took him in."

"We expected that." Feitan fixes his gaze on Kurapika. "Everyone, in your positions. No movement until I give the signal, and that won't be until we know what this fucker's plan is."

As the group disperses, Machi lingers besides him a second. "Say it."

Feitan growls. "We can't conduct an escape in this crowd."

* * *

Chrollo well remembers the musty smell of rotting wood mixed with he sour scent of sweat. He once to snuck into a court trial when he was six. The man screamed and begged for his life as he was sentenced to be torn apart. It was pathetic, and the mafia used that example for months.  _Never disobey the mafia_.

So much of his life he's done exactly that. Funny how one incident affected him that much. At the time, he'd just cried a little when he ran home, and his mother had kissed away his tears.

Chrollo is pushed onto the lone stand before the judge's pulpit.

There are two levels to the courthouse, both without seating. Not even the judge will have a place to sit. Well, both the judge's spot and the first level were rumored to have had seating, but even the most uncomfortable seats were all robbed. Now, both levels are packed with standing people held back by rickety gates.

Some are eager to see the infamous leader of the Phantom Troupe; some merely wish to escape the heat for an hour or two. After all these years, Meteor City remains the same.

The Owl fastens the chain around Chrollo's neck to the stand.

He remembers. If he tries to flee, the stand will trigger a mechanism that drops a blade from the ceiling. He'll lose his head if he's lucky, or bleed out after the loss of a limb if he's not.

And he's not going to give Gyro the satisfaction.

Gyro retreats into the crowd like the coward Chrollo always knew he was. The guards remain surrounding him.

"Attention!" cries a reedy voice. "Make way, make way!"

This is the man Kurapika expected Gyro to be. An overweight simpleton with a ridiculous wig and aura of self-importance, trampling his way through the crowds to the first floor. Kurapika yanks a child away from his kick.

"Bastard," he growls.

The little girl does not thank him. She jerks away and disappears into the throngs. Kurapika can't help but wonder if she works for the mafia, too.

"Stay calm," Leorio hisses to Kurapika. He, Cheadle, and Machi stand the closest to Chrollo, in the third row from the gate.

Kurapika takes a deep breath. It will do no good if he reveals his scarlet eyes now. Though a distraction might –

"Don't you dare." Machi elbows Kurapika. She's clearly here as his babysitter, and he resents this.

"We have a list of crimes against both those from Meteor City, and those not. Those from will take precedent, as usual." Judge Valdrada – who is only a judge in Meteor City, by Meteor City standards, which means the mafia leaders like him enough that his daughter lived long enough to become one of their wives – scans the papers in his hands.

"Does that mean their lives have less meaning?" Chrollo asks drolly. If the trial of a guilty man is starting, he might as well say what he likes. He raises his voice, so that the entire crowd can hear him.

* * *

Kurapika shakes.  _He_  asked Chrollo that question, over and over and over.

And before, Chrollo's actions altogether answered  _No_.

But now – it's only words, and the implication of those words, instead of action – but now Kurapika desperately wants them to show that Chrollo's answer has become  _Yes._

* * *

Valdrada ignores jab. "I see you're another nameless one."

"On the contrary. I named myself Chrollo Lucilfer." Chrollo hopes people are listening. That you can choose your own name, even if your parents were too poor to give you one.

"How dramatic." Valdrada rolls his eyes.

Chrollo winks, because he will not be intimidated. This will be his legacy, if nothing else.

Valdrada points behind Chrollo.

A guard steps behind him and easily snaps the pinkie on his right hand to an unnatural angle.

Chrollo's felt worse pain. He rolls his eyes, despite the fact that his left little finger is then now broken. It's worth it.

Magistrate Valdrada, that fat, pompous ass. No one honest is overweight in Meteor City.

Chrollo cocks his head, waiting for Valdrada to continue.

Valdrada scowls. No doubt he wanted Chrollo to cry. Unlike Gyro's collected cruelty, Valdrada boldly revels in his sadism. "There's quite a lengthy list."

Chrollo forces himself to stare straight ahead. If he makes eye contact with Kurapika, or any of the Spiders, this will not end the way he's decided.

"The list mostly concerns one event: your massacre of the Kurta clan. Now, our humble, great City never had interactions with them, though I'm told the mafia still views your extinction of the clan as treason against our City. Something about money for the eyes that could have helped us impoverished." Valdrada blinks innocently. "But they have not elected to charge you with that yet."

"Instead, most of their charges concern what came after. All involving your prize from the massacre: those legendary Scarlet Eyes."

Chrollo's heart palpitates. He guessed correctly.

 _Your loyalties will destroy you._  Gyro is playing his trump card, and Chrollo is merely a bystander, not even a part of the true game. Only his Spiders, and Kurapika, are.

 _Please remember what I taught you_ , he prays to Machi, Feitan, Kalluto, Phinks, Oito, Shizuku, Franklin, Bonolenov, Illumi and even Hisoka.

For Kurapika, Chrollo prays again for the atonement he's already received. He hopes Kurapika grants him this for as long as Kurapika lives, and he hopes it's a long time.  _Forgive me._

Valdrada drones on. "I see one of your most famous victims, the daughter of Light Nostrade."

 _Her name was Neon_ , Chrollo thinks bitterly.  _If you're going to pretend to care, at least say her name._

"She was not a subject of Meteor City, but her father often hired folks from here. When the Nostrades fell, she was assaulted and died from a single blow to the head." Valdrada clears his throat.

* * *

Kurapika swallows thickly. He can feel Leorio's heartbreak, Machi's revulsion.

Valdrada continues to read, as if Neon's death is simply words and not the extinguishment of a person. As if she doesn't matter, despite the fact that he's trying Chrollo for her death.

"I see you had been infiltrated her guards. Most likely you were interested in her treasure, no, and once you had that, you left her to the mafia."

The room is still, but to the Spiders and especially to Chrollo, Kurapika's dawning realization creeps over their skin.

* * *

Chrollo swallows.

Neon was Chrollo's victim far before she was Kurapika's. Chrollo deliberately took from her; Kurapika merely neglected his duty. If only Kurapika can see that nuance.

"I left her to the mafia? Are you not a member of the mafia?" Chrollo responds to the judge.

Valdrada rolls his eyes. He snaps his fingers, and Chrollo feels the guard grab his left index finger, and twist, and twist.

His finger snaps. Chrollo does his best to squirm as little as possible.

"There will be more of those if you speak out of turn again," Valdrada says casually.

"You'd like that."

Valdrada makes good on his promise. Chrollo's right thumb is now useless.

"A teacher whose wife was from Meteor City. He used Scarlet Eyes for his biology classes. You burned his hand with acid in order to steal them."

Chrollo is dimly aware of a rustle in the crowd. He doesn't need to turn around to know Kurapika understands now, and yet his friends won't let him come forward and doom himself.

He's counting on them.  _Leorio, Melody, my Spiders – please save him._

"The lawyer who tried to save a falsely accused Meteor City inhabitant's life ten years ago. You sold him out to the assassins seeking his life, until he gave you the eyes."

"The musician whose only means of work you stole alongside the eyes his late father had given him, so that he fell to drugs. He wound up here shortly before he died."

"The investor whose children you threatened. He was not from here, though many of his servants were."

"The doctor who wished to use the genetics of Scarlet Eyes to cure visual disorders. You burned his results without a care for how many in meteor City could have benefited."

"The board members you trapped in a burning building. They have sent aid here in the past."

"The tycoon who killed himself a day after speaking to you. He was not connected to Meteor City, but he may have been had you not shortened his life."

"The founder of a religion, the woman who'd finally restored her life, who worshiped beauty and humanity. The woman who inspired many other young women from Meteor City. You revealed her past to her followers until they deserted her."

"The politician who gave you everything to cover his affair. His wife originated here. She is no longer his wife."

"The artist whom you made draw in his own Scarlet blood. That's a particularly grotesque one. He came here trying to kill you. We killed him instead."

Drawing in someone's own blood. That's something Feitan would have made his victims do. Chrollo's heart aches.  _Kurapika, what have you done?_

He knows these are the secrets of the man he loves. He's not even surprised. After all, Chrollo himself has done far worse.

But it still hurts. Because, deep down, Chrollo truly does think of himself as evil. And he does not think that way of Kurapika; he never has.

There is something inherently good about Kurapika, in his core essence, and Chrollo loves that. Maybe because he's not tainted by Meteor City; maybe it's because he has special eyes; maybe it's all in Chrollo's head because Chrollo loves Kurapika. Chrollo doesn't care why; he just knows he wants to preserve that goodness, strengthen it, regain what Chrollo stole from him when he slaughtered the Kurtas.

"How does the prisoner respond to these charges?" Valdrada smirks.

Chrollo lowers his head. His Adam's apple bobs up and down. The room grows quiet, save for the snuffly breathing and coughs that plague this dump.

"Speak, prisoner."

Chrollo lifts his head. His dark bangs fall back to reveal the cross prominent on his forehead.

His heart hammers.  _Leorio, Melody, please finish what I've started._

"There's no need to continue."

Chrollo's middle finger is crushed next. Damn, he could have used it.

"I'll decide that," Valdrada declares shrilly.

"What I mean is  _I confess_."

The crowd gasps.

In the crowd, Gyro scowls, and Valdrada coughs to hide his flummox. "Huh?"

"I lost several members due to the Kurta Clan Massacre. Of course I wanted the eyes back. Something so dangerous does not belong in the hands of ordinary people." Chrollo smirks. "I wanted to eliminate them from the world, thereby keeping everyone safe from the violent effects of their beauty."

* * *

Kurapika finally wrestles free to land a punch square on Leorio. When he friend stumbles back, Kurapika rushes forward.

"Oh no, you don't." Machi's nen stitches wrap around his ankles, tripping him, hindering him –

"Stop! I have to – I have to get there!" Kurapika clamors to his feet.

In any other city, someone falling to the ground and shrieking during a trial would be sensational. In Meteor City, it's typical. Perhaps he's on drugs. Perhaps he's crazy. No one expected differently.

"Then this court sentences you. I, Judge Octavia Valdrada, sentence this nameless man to one-hundred-twenty-eight lashes, followed by public execution." Valdrada draws himself up, a prim smile on his face, as if he's ordered a hamburger and not death.

Kurapika opens his mouth to scream. He can, and he will, scream louder than anyone here.

Strong arms wrap around him, pinning him to the ground. Machi's pink hair clouds his vision.

Kurapika struggles, but of course he can't hurt her – not when she's carrying a baby – but – but – "Let me  _go_!"

"He's doing this for you – don't you dare throw it away!" Machi hates the tears running down her face. She hates that she has to save Uvo and Paku's killer. She hates that she's powerless. "Don't you fucking  _dare_."

"He can't die for me! That's me! Those are  _my_  crimes!" Kurapika rolls out from under her to seize her by her shoulders. He shake Machi until her teeth rattle. "Don't you see – I've been a hypocrite and a villain all this time! It's my fault. I deserve punishment, not him."

" _Not_  him?" Franklin scoffs. He and Feitan rushed over once they saw that Leorio's prediction that Kurapika would go rogue was inevitable.

"And here I thought you wanted us to suffer for our massacres." Feitan grabs Kurapika by his hair.

"If you deserve to suffer punishment, don't we deserve more?" Sweat runs down Nobunaga's forehead as he, too, approaches. Tears fill his eyes.

"We have to save him! I'll – I have proof that I did it." Kurapika fishes around for the Scarlet Eyes in his pocket.  _Pairo, I'm sorry_.

"Wow, you're choosing Danchou over your eyes," Bonolenov observes.

"He's – still alive." Kurapika gags.

Since he lost his home, he's been living for the dead. He made his home death. And now – now he realizes how wrong he was.

Kurapika spies Leorio in the Spiders surrounding him, blocking him from seeing wherever they're taking Chrollo. Leorio's jaw swells with purple blood.

"Don't you hate me?" he begs. "Now you know everything I've done. I'm sick and evil and – and – "

"You can't make me hate you," Leorio says, avoiding Kurapika's eyes.

"Look at me!" Kurapika screeches.

Leorio obeys. His eyes are hurt, stunned, repulsed, even. But they're also crying, for him and for Chrollo. "I'm still your friend."

"Then let me turn myself in," Kurapika begs.

"Nope." Cheadle crosses her arms.

Kurapika flounders. Panic takes over. This is why he should be alone, work alone. "Emperor Time."

Phinks squeaks in fury.

"Fuck, he's strong." Machi doubles down on her grip. She knows he won't hurt her, and Kurapika loathes her for it.

"Kurapika,  _stop_."

Oito's voice stabs through his heart. He can feel her anger, her despair. Blasted manipulator.

" If you want to waste everything Chrollo has given back to you, that's your prerogative," Oito says. "But don't expect us to sit back and watch  _both_  of you die."

Kurapika crumbles. His Scarlet Eyes dissipate, though his scleras are now scarlet from tears.

"Aren't you going to play your flute?" Kurapika spits towards Melody, in one final act of desperate self-destruction.

She shakes her head. Large tears run down her beautiful face. "I can't tell you to be calm right now, because I don't think any of us should be."


	39. Reject No One

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

**Reject No One**

In the day-to-day spinnings of ten million people cramped into a landfill masquerading as a city, resignation is constant. Dreams are pathological, at best the result of too much D2.

But even here, here in the barest of cities, despair is scarcer than hope.

Meteor City has always survived on the blood of brutal people with brutal determination. People who understood each other enough to ignored you and that person behind you, because they recognize  _I am nobody, too_.

Yet now, as the Leader of the Spiders is rushed out of the decrepit court, people whisper. As he is thrust onto the stage, hurried towards his pain and death as if there's no time to waste, as the gallows swing before the man who named himself Chrollo Lucilfer's face, the crowd grows louder. Shriller.

The Spiders, they escaped. The Spiders, they are old by Meteor City standards, and rich by anyone's standards. They return their wealth to Meteor City. They do not reject the city that made them, and Meteor City takes nothing from them.

Yet one of them was, ultimately, more corrupt than they. A traitor, with the gall to confess, as if Meteor City might absolve him.

And that, that hope, is the ultimate proof of his treason.

Meteor City does not forgive.

"We're fucked." Feitan eyes Machi, who pounds out a text message to Illumi.

"And he knew." Nobunaga's voice breaks. "He knew he damned himself!"

For what? This skinny brat, the twerp who just tried to kill himself, the bastard who killed Uvo and Paku? The brat who bound Chrollo's nen? Who separated the Spiders from their leader when they still needed him?

_Do we?_

_Do we still need him?_

Nobunaga shakes. Doesn't he himself still need Uvo and Paku?

_Do we still need him?_

_We always will._

"Would my Hunter Chairman position help?" Cheadle Yorkshire draws herself up on her tiptoes. She suspects the answer, but she'll ask, and she'll try, despite the odds.

"They're not fond out outside positions," Bonolenov admits. Bono, who for so long was the only Spider not originating from Meteor City.

But now Illumi and Kalluto have joined. And Oito, the queen who gasps into a phone to his left. The troupe is better for their presence. Outsiders can be a source of marvelous strength.

Nobunaga scans the crowd. Dare he believe? No, that is too much for him.

But dare he hope?

"I'll try anyhow," Cheadle declares. "Come with me, Leorio."

"No," says Feitan, blocking their path.

* * *

"What are you planning, another revolution?" Unma asks bluntly through the phone.

"Starting a war, probably." Oito drops her voice.

"Surely you jest."

"You know I don't, though I wouldn't prefer it," Oito says. "Not when people are in danger. How far are you from Meteor City?"

"At least another day, and no, we're not funding a war." Unma harrumphs.

"Good. I won't ask that. Just political aid." Oito feels nauseated. They won't be in time to save Chrollo. There really is only Feitan's plan left.

"Mercyn's fast, but not as talented as Captain Hisoka."

Oito breaks into ironic, frightened laughter. "And Tserriednich?"

"He and Benjamin are alive. For now, that's all I need."

Oito's eyes drift to Phinks, who sweats as much from anxiety as heat. To Kurapika, who might not recover if they can't save his lover. "I understand more than you know."

* * *

"Let's split up." Feitan grabs Machi. "You're with us, Chain Bastard."

Kurapika loves that nickname, in the sense that he hates every foul word he is. That despised nickname that reeks of every sin he's committed. He deserves it. He brought this upon Chrollo, with his chains, though he never knew to how great an extent he would regret it.

Until now. Now, he regrets everything. If he could erase his existence and by that erasure, save Chrollo, Kurapika would.

"Do you have a plan?" Kurapika says. There's something – about how Cheadle stopped, about Machi's calculated demeanor –

Feitan laughs. Bitterly. "It's too crowded."

"The City will tear us apart," Machi says. "They're going to flog him, whether we look on or not. Our only chance is when they take him back inside afterward. They won't execute him immediately. They always allow a last night."

"Add if we miss that chance?"

"Then we miss it." Feitan raises an eyebrow. "You used to be smarter than this."

"You're – I'll kill you." Kurapika teeters back and forth. "No, no."

Threats, his own threats, got him into this.

"I can't even threaten you anymore." Tears spill down his cheeks. "Feitan, what if it were Machi? Wouldn't you do – wouldn't you give – everything you had? Just for a one percent chance?"

"Our chance isn't even one percent." Machi sounds colder than she ever has as she and Feitan drag Kurapika back from the stage, away from the others.

Kurapika lurches away. "No – I'm staying. I'm staying as close as I can."

"Good." Machi holds him, facing forward.

Around them, the city teeters.

 _It's like a pendulum_ , Chrollo said once, watching Uvo knock back a vengeful assassin, an assassin whose face shows he finally sees that he cannot overpower Uvogin.  _The apex of everything he's believed. Losing faith may be the greatest or the darkest moment in history. Do they find a new way?_

The assassin raised his sword.

_Or do they destroy themselves?_

Shalnark bet on destruction. Pakunoda too. Hisoka, perhaps to be contrary, bet with Kortopi, bet with the man he'd one day decapitate, that a new path would be discovered.

The man slit his own throat. Machi was glad she hadn't bet.

Machi has the same feeling now. As they stand at a courthouse, at their friend's execution, Meteor City has reached its own apex.

The City is losing faith.

* * *

Chrollo's hands are tied to the pillar before them. Two guards cut away his shirt.

He's seen this before. Over and over and over. Children who stole bread. The instigators of drunken brawls. Tourists who ignored the mafia proprietors. Store owners who got a bit too greedy. Anyone the mafia wished to scapegoat.

Chrollo braces himself. He looks into the eyes of the crowd instead of down, because he will not be broken.

"This is what happens when you betray the mafia," announces Valdrada.

The masked brute flicks his whip, and Chrollo refuses to flinch as it tears through his flesh. He will remain resolute. He will not falter – these people watching will know the power of the spiders – they will know that it is okay to defy mafia and royalty and anyone who holds them back.

But on the tenth lash, when the brute strikes the same spot for the fifth time, Chrollo's muscles jerk and spasm.

And there, to the left, is Kurapika, held in a bear hug by Machi's unmistakable pink hair. Though he can't see Feitan, he must be near Machi.

He gasps and focuses on righting his stance, focuses on ignoring Kurapika, but the brute seems encouraged by his pain. The whip digs into his back. Flecks of blood decorate the wooden stage.

Franklin and Bonolenov are to the left. Shizuku and Melody are near the stage.

Chrollo holds his breath as his muscles continue to betray him. Sweat beads his brow. He can't cry out. He can't.

He closes his eyes at last, allowing himself a grimace, a shudder.

When he opens them again, he sees the famed Chimera Ant hunters, standing straight ahead.  _Gon and Killua's friends_.

Cheadle and Leorio hang back by the courthouse. Phinks is near them, Oito by his side, Woble in his arms.

Chrollo focuses on how much he loves their relationship.

But Phinks' face is full of horror. He holds Woble close, as if to protect her.

Chrollo blinks back tears. It's not the whip – it's his friends – why does he have to care so much – why did he always pretend he didn't –

A tear escapes, and he curses it as it falls to the wooden stage.

"He's crying!" jeers a slurred voice, and the crowd begins to heckle. The man whipping him releases a hearty laugh, reinvigorated by the energy of the masses.

Dirt pelts Chrollo, and probably human waste, too. Chrollo's grateful there's no rotten fruit to throw. Meteor City is predictable; people would eat rot rather than waste it.

"Enjoy your last few minutes alive!" cackles Valdrada.

* * *

Few minutes? What about tomorrow? What about a last night?

"Let's help," Kurapika pleads. He can't do anything. None of them can.

He feels like a child reading the newspaper. Seeing images of Kurta bodies, lamentations at the loss of beauty, because beauty was easier to mourn than people. Screaming at the train conductor to take him back immediately, impatient despite knowing he could never arrive in time to save them.

"You repetitive, kid," Feitan says in his ear. His sword pokes into Kurapika's side.

"I'm not a kid!" Kurapika whimpers. "We're not just going to let this happen, right?"

"Who's this 'we?' Joining us after all this time?" Machi can't resist asking. Even as her voice breaks.

Feitan licks his lips. If they save him with things as they are, the city will turn on every last member of the Spiders. People are always their most volatile when they lose faith.

"Well?" Machi turns to him.

"If we move," Feitan says slowly, "we do what Gyro wants."

"And if we don't, Danchou dies." Machi's eyes flood with pain. No more pretending they don't care about each other. The Spiders are a family.

Feitan's stomach seizes. If he saves Danchou, if he ascertains Danchou's survival, he risks Machi.

If Danchou were his child, would he act differently?

Kurapika's eyes practically foam scarlet.

Feitan remembers skinning a crippled boy. Starting with the arms he could feel. He saved the legs for last. The boys' parents shrieked and pled until all three of their eyes displayed Scarlet. Watching their family die, knowing they wre powerless to stop it. Powerless to stop even their eyes from betraying them, from giving their killers precisely what they desired.

He wonders if Kurapika feels like those parents now. And if he's never changed throughout the years.

* * *

When the full hundred-twenty-eight strikes are at last counted, Chrollo hangs limply on the stage, but still silent.

This is his victory.

Even when he sees Hisoka's unmistakably orange hair, and sees Illumi and Kalluto, the rest of his spiders, rush into the crowd, and of all people, Hisoka still looks appalled at Chrollo's state.

Even when the guards saw at the ropes binding him and he drops to the floor, hilariously weak, he stays silent. Pain surrounds him, permeating his ears and eyes and even his mouth tastes like blood, but he will be silent.

And then – then one of the guards pinches his macerated back.

A mewl escapes his lips, on instinct. He hasn't the ability to stop himself.

"What's the matter? Prefer the whip after all?" The guard laughs.

Chrollo can muster no more strength as they display him before the crowd.

"Let this be a lesson to you all." The guard slaps Chrollo's back, and he falls on his face.

* * *

When Chrollo is raised once more by the guards, he notices Owl in the front row. Doing nothing. Not even courageous enough to watch him.

Chrollo hates him, even if he suspects Owl's behavior is more than fair.

He's propelled towards the gallows, to stand atop that rickety trapdoor.

This is abnormal; people aren't executed on the same day as they're tortured.

Gyro must be trying to force the Spiders to act. But if they haven't yet, they won't. Chrollo is relieved that they have chosen their own safety.

But he – he wants to see Machi and Feitan's baby.

A scratchy rope – it may be composed of plastic trash bags – is tied around his neck.

He wants to see how Hisoka and Illumi manage their marriage, and invite Gon and Killua to join the Spiders.

A masked man holds forth a brand. The mark of a traitor – a teardrop below an eye, the mark Hisoka mocks with paint – is branded into Chrollo's cheek.

Chrollo wants to watch Nanika and Alluka heal, Kalluto grow, Phinks and Oito marry.

He winces at the singeing of his flesh, at the heat that bores into his face. The mark of one bound for death.

This is so anticlimactic. They could have at least crucified him. And, perhaps in his own delusions, Chrollo smiles.

He wants to hold wrinkled, arthritic hands with a grizzled Kurapika as the light fades from his eyes, with a smile on his mouth. He wants a million memories from decades of life together to warm his heart even after death.

* * *

Gyro waits with baited breath. Where is the Troupe? They and many hunters have arrived. They're brought meddlers, outsiders ready to interfere in matters of loyalty.

It's all he needs. Any second now.

Surely they are waiting for the loudest moment, right before death. Surely they will betray their leader's lover, sell him out for thirty pieces of silver, or maybe just the last pair of Scarlet Eyes.

They will save their leader; it's all followers know how to do.

* * *

Chrollo thinks it the cruelest of ironies, that he must look upon Hisoka.

Hisoka smiles slyly at Chrollo. His wink feels familiar.

Chrollo doesn't even possess enough strength to employ  _gyo_ , but he can feel Hisoka's plan as Valdrada reads the charges. No, they're crimes. Confessed crimes now.

Does he trust Hisoka enough to look away? Does he trust himself enough that, even if Hisoka betrays him one last time, even if Hisoka seizes this chance as his likely last chance to kill Chrollo, Chrollo would rather die looking at Kurapika than Hisoka?

His eyes frantically scan the crowd for those Scarlet Eyes.

Kurapika's bore into him. Pleading.  _Why_?

_It's too hard to have crimes chase you. You don't have the constitution._

Kura would probably whallop him for that. And he'd pin the Kurta beneath him and take those Scarlet lips in his.

Chrollo's eyes wrinkle, as if to smile again.

* * *

Kurapika has only felt pain like this once before. When he read that newspaper, that sensationalization, that glittering of his family's massacre.

He's spent years flagellating himself for not being there.

So he's damn well going to be here for Chrollo. He doesn't even fight Machi. He deserves to suffer; he only wishes Chrollo didn't have to.

_I don't just love you._

_I need you._

* * *

When the lever is pulled, when Chrollo crashes downward, he's not sure he has a final thought. Merely a feeling, a feeling that is all he ever wanted to feel.

* * *

Gyro feels numb. His plan failed. Their loyalties have ruined them, ruined their leader. No doubt the insecurities now infesting them will tumble their merry bad of thieves.

But he still doesn't have what he needs. The Eyes. And without them, he may never regain what he had.

That's the thing. About starting from nothing, over and over and over. Sometimes, with the luck and chance of life, you succeed. Other times, you fail. He failed in that he was born, and he is about to fail now.

* * *

The city rumbles. People have seen death thousands of times, but the death of a spider different; it is the death of faith.

"Riots soon," Feitan mutters.

Machi nods. She grabs Kurapika by the shoulder. "Franklin will get his body. You're coming with us."

"You – you murdered him! I murdered him! We all murdered him." Kurapika stumbles. He retches towards the ground.

"It takes a city to murder, doesn't it." Machi's eyes blaze as she wraps her nen stitches around Kurapika's wrists. "Come with us. You don't get to run away."

Kurapika has no more words. He simply obeys her, as they traipse through the crowd. If Machi meant to have revenge on him for his past sins, she's succeeded. But at the price of her Danchou?

He doesn't understand, even as Machi shoves people out of their way, because she has no more patience, because she is clearly infuriated.

A few streets from – from – from Chrollo – Kurapika stops at the sight of Hisoka. In front of the sagging circus tent, peppered by smaller tents outside. Resting tents for the performers.

Hisoka points to the nearest tent. "I always found it easy to hide in here."

Machi shoves Kurapika inside.

He starts at several butlers, hunters, the ants, and what looks to be the entirety of Killua's siblings.

"Kurapika." Gon grabs him in a hug.

"Gon…" Kurapika's pulse slows. His vision blurs. "There are Zoldycks. There are Zoldycks here, there are Zoldycks here…"

"You can ask," Illumi says, cutting to the point.

Kurapika gapes at the eldest brother. Of all people, he never imagined Illumi would be the one to understand.

But is Illumi right? Does Kurapika have the right to ask? This is Kurapika's fault.

"Why didn't we do anything?" Illumi fills in.

"That's not our job," says the chubby one.

Kurapika shakes his head as he finds his voice. "Nanika and Alluka –"

"Nanika's tired from taking us here," Alluka says, rubbing the shoulder of her sleeping twin.

"Move aside, Kurapika." Melody's soft voice floats through. She and Shizuku squeeze inside next, followed by Phinks, Woble, and Oito.

"It's going to be okay." Oito embraces Kurapika.

"How –"

The room grows silent. The rest of the spiders have arrived. Franklin bears Chrollo's limp, bruised and bloodied body.

"We had to wrestle him from the crowds." Franklin's voice cracks. He lays Chrollo out on the earth.

With a gasp, Kurapika bends over Chrollo. He presses Holy Chain against his bruised lips – the lips he once split himself. "Please, I'll give anything."

Killua tickles Nanika, who startles awake. She allows herself to be taken over to Chrollo.

Kurapika opens his mouth to beg more.

Nanika drowsily pats Chrollo's back, using as little nen as possible to avoid notice. His shredded wounds begin to close.

But there's no point. Chrollo is dead, right?

"All right, come on." Hisoka leans over them both.

Kurapika tumbles backwards. Aura begins to flood out every node in Chrollo. Multiplying auras, each stronger and more mesmerizing than the last.

Chrollo's eyes fly open, and he lets out a gentle gasp.

Kurapika forgets his own breath. He forgets to move. Because if he does, surely this will be proven an illusion.

Hisoka giggles. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the new technique I'd like to name Sugar Rush."


	40. Take Nothing from Us

**Chapter Forty**

**Take Nothing from Us**

**Content warning for allusions to sexual abuse of minors.**

Sight itself rushes towards Chrollo. At first a blur of faded colors, as if he's become half-blind. And then shadowed images give way to vibrant and frightened people, and all their eyes are on him, and they're all people he loves. Even the man who betrayed him over and over, the man he killed once, is grinning down at Chrollo.

Just to his left, Kurapika's red and swollen Scarlet eyes wash over him. A flush of shame rises on the Kurta's cheeks, and his mouth opens to beg forgiveness. His hand pressed against his trembling lips, afraid to believe the truth could be so kind.

Phinks releases a wail that Oito initially mistakes for Woble. Shizuku grabs Melody's hand, and Leorio and Cheadle exchange relieved smiles. Nobunaga turns to glare at Feitan and Machi, but finds it difficult to remain angry at his sniffling, pregnant friend.

Kalluto throws his arms around the two. "You're so smart!"

Chrollo pushes himself to sit upright. He breathes delicately, afraid that he'll stop again, afraid that life would be so kind. Afraid because, despite his own power, he was rendered weak enough to rely completely on his friends.

Kalluto steps forward, only to hesitate.

Chrollo smiles at him, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wanted to touch Kurapika first. "You can hug me, Kalluto."

The kid rushes forward to squeeze him in an embrace tighter than Gyro's chains.

Kurapika squeaks. But dare he ask for forgiveness? This is his fault. He does not deserve Chrollo's sacrifice. For his sins.

"You were first and last in his thoughts." Alluka's mellifluous voice breaks into Kurapika's shame.

Chrollo's eyes, warm and grey like a sunset cloud, beg him. Beg him to understand that he truly does care.

Kurapika hurls himself into Chrollo's arms, and Chrollo doesn't care who touched him first or last anymore, because Kurapika is here, and he has a life to spend with him.

Kurapika's hands comb through Chrollo's filthy, greasy hair, his tears fall on Chrollo's cheeks. He wishes he could show him how much his life means to him.

"I don't regret it," Chrollo insists as their tears mix. "I'd do it again and again."

Kurapika laughs with relief. His heart feels as though it will burst. "I thought  _I_  was the one with the martyr complex."

"There's a difference between a martyr complex and true martyrdom," Chrollo muses.

"Oh, calling yourself a martyr, aren't we? I'm the one who saved you. In fact, this is my second resurrection. Really, I'm almost Jesus at this point." Hisoka snickers.

"Jesus resurrected three people, not counting himself, so no, you're not," Chrollo turns from caressing Kurapika face to correct Hisoka immediately.

"You had to rely on me," Hisoka says, undaunted.

Chrollo's eyes flit to Feitan. "You really couldn't think of a better plan?"

Feitan jerks his thumb behind him, to Machi.

"Machi?" Chrollo feigns hurt. "I thought you liked me better than that!"

She speaks in third person, using exasperation to cover her own indescribable relief. "Machi witnessed the first Bungee Gum resurrection –"

" _Sugar Rush_ ," Hisoka interrupts.

"I'm pregnant and traumatized. Don't piss me off, clown." Machi rubs her small stomach.

"Wait. You knew? You knew this would happen?" Phinks cries.

"Hisoka ex machina…" muses the clown, drawing a groan from Illumi.

"This is really your husband?" Milluki hisses.

"To be fair, I knew, too," says Oito.

"What?!" Phinks shrieks.

"I helped plan for the worst-case scenario with Machi. We roped Feitan in, and no one else, though I'd suspect Cheadle, Melody, and Franklin had their suspicions." Oito winces.

"So did I," Shizuku admits.

"It's not that we wanted to deceive you. Or to make Chrollo worry. It's…that we couldn't fall into Gyro's plan, which clearly involved a rescue." Oito lowers her eyes. She hates the hurt in Phink's eyes. "My – I mean, Nasubi – he used to do that. To nobles he no longer cared for. Their entire houses could be brought down by one false change and one foolhardy rescue attempt."

"It's not uncommon," Illumi adds. He's played his part killing in such events.

"But why not tell Kurapika, at least? I thought everyone knew." Gon looks incensed.

Killua rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? They  _want_  Kurapika. He was the original target. They're watching him."

Kurapika's face pales.

"If your behavior was even slightly suspicious, it could have killed us all," Machi says, looking straight at him. "I'm not really sorry."

Kurapika nods. "I know."

He probably deserved to suffer, anyway.

His hands run down the smooth skin of Chrollo's back. Not even a scar remains, despite the blood and debris that cot his pants and hair "I'm a fool."

"I know," Chrollo says, with a wink.

Kurapika laughs nervously. He looks away, despising the tears that begin afresh. "Aren't you angry? I – pretended to be so righteous – and I was – a villain in my own right."

"I have a soft spot for villains." Chrollo's fingers, straight and unbroken, brush away Kurapika's tears.

Hisoka chortles, and even Feitan begrudgingly smiles.

"We're all villains. Even Gon's done terrible things. I've killed more than you, Kurapika." Killua lowers his head. "I was under direction, but I still did it. We're all villains, but we don't have to stop here."

"I, for one, enjoy learning that no one is as moral as you seemed when we first met." Leorio sniffs. Cheadle pokes him, and he winces.

Kurapika eyes their familiarity. How interesting.

"I think the point is to become better," Gon says dryly.

"Even when you're old," says a towering woman. "I'm Tsubone, a Zoldyck butler."

"The one with motorized nen," Chrollo says, eyes widening.

"Don't steal it!" Alluka squawks, eliciting a good-natured wink from Chrollo.

"I suppose we should do introductions." Illumi claps his hands. "Let's have everyone say their name, faction, and nen technique."

"Am I in school again?" Leorio's eyebrows raise.

"I wouldn't know. I never went to school," Illumi says, completely deadpan.

"Leorio, kindly accept that you're the most ordinary person here," Killua teases.

* * *

The harbor of Meteor City is filled with refuse and dust. Salt and rotten fish stink the dusky air.

And here, on the outskirts of the hazy city, away from the fires and broken glass and bodies of the riots, Gyro watches Magistrate Valdrada's body sink beneath the ocean waves. Magistrates are dime-a-dozen these days. No one will miss this pompous ass.

He spared the daughter, though. Valdrada's daughter reminds Gyro of himself. He merely hopes that she will come to the revelation that love is a lie, too, because her father was just using her.

She was too old for him to show her more, though.

"Sir, I think things will be okay. I'm sure of it." Bizeff has long lost the anxious sheen from his days as Secretary of State in NGL. Coated in rags and grime, with even his eyebrows beginning to turn gray, Bizeff looks truly pathetic.

Bizeff looks how Gyro feels inside. Perhaps he should have given the daughter to Bizeff.

"We're not dead until we're dead, yes?" Bizeff forces a smile.

"I am already dead, or have you forgotten?" Gyro tilts his head as the sun is blocked by a ridiculous boat shaped like a whale.

"You're more alive than that one," Bizeff mutters.

"Do you love me, Bizeff?" Gyro asks, a dark tint to his tone.

"No, of course not," Bizeff says quickly. "Only what you provide me with, my King."

"Then why do you still call me king? Did you think I enjoyed a title? My name and titles are meaningless. Tools only. Becoming an ant only solidified my inhumanity." Gyro's eyes bore into the now-trembling Bizeff. Why, if he's no longer human, does he feel weaker? "Don't talk again."

"I shan't." Bizeff cringes as soon as his mouth closes.

Gyro rolls his eyes. He expected no better.

The troupe should have turned on the Kurta devil, or used his eyes as a bargaining tool. The Kurta should have turned himself in.

They wouldn't all work together. Not for a leader who fell in love with their enemy. What kind of loyalty was that?

What is wrong with humans?

* * *

Oito waves her cell phone as soon as she finishes introducing herself. "And I've just been informed that my former sister-wives have made it here early after all."

"The Black Whale?" Hisoka is mildly impressed. Perhaps he wasn't as good a captain as he thought.

He's strangely okay with that. Not being the best. Something's wrong with him; maybe it's just leftover emotion from saving Chrollo and Illumi.

"So what do we do now?" Morel crosses his arms over his broad chest. In some ways, his build reminds Chrollo of a smaller, gentler Uvogin.

"People are dying outside," Melody says quietly.

"The riots usually end by dawn," Canary says. "I remember."

Her parents died, and she wound up in an orphanage until Silva brought her to the Zoldycks. Though they were the doom of many, she thought the Zoldycks her salvation.

"I think if they see Chrollo's 'ghost' more panic erupt, with their state in such disrepair," Knov, the man who looks like a ghost himself, adds.

Oito sighs. "We could sneak out under cover of darkness."

"That would be the safest option." Illumi points his finger towards the ceiling. "Never pick a fight you can't win. I still believe that."

"I think that's boring," Hisoka shoots back.

" _We know_ ," Nobunaga says grumpily.

Hisoka, for one second, looks mildly abashed. Fuck. Leftover emotion, that's all. He's still himself. Unchanging.

Kurapika surveys the discomfort on the Troupe's faces, the dismay on Chrollo's. "But this is their home."

"Not much of one," Hisoka interjects.

"Now I understand why the troupe wanted to kill you," Ikalgo teases.

"Excuse me if I don't listen to an octopus!"

"He's a Chimera Ant. Check your prejudice," Milluki replies.

"Kurapika, continue." Chrollo smiles encouragement at him.

"If I … had people to return to, I would fought the entire Troupe just for a one-percent chance to free my family." Kurapika swallows.

"Considering you still did it for a zero percent chance…" Beyond winks.

"I…I am very distressed." Ikalgo waves a tentacle. "Gyro, my king, is behind this? He doesn't care about Scarlet Eyes or pretty treasures. He cares about chaos and upending the world. Why start from a place like Meteor City?"

"Because people here aren't trash," Knuckle says. "Because they matter. And they're strong in ways the rest of the world isn't."

Machi stiffens.

"What is it?" Feitan asks anxiously.

"It's not the kid. Calm yourself." She places her hands on her hips. "It's the disappearances. All ants."

"Right…" Shoot says slowly.

"Ants have learned nen power and many of them are stronger than humans." Machi points to Palm, who blushes a little.

Killua does not miss the small smile on Milluki's face when he notices pink on Palm's cheeks.

"So?" Meleoron asks.

"So…nothing, nothing exactly." Machi sighs.

"Instinct?" Chrollo pries.

She nods. "I'm sure they're connected. Gyro and the ants."

"Well, I mean, he is one," Ikalgo says.

She waves impatiently. "No, more than that."

"What do you think?" Alluka turns towards Hisoka.

"Excuse me?" Hisoka is uncharacteristically sullen.

"He's in your thoughts a lot." Alluka blinks innocently at Hisoka. "Gyro."

"Of course he is. He was Gyro's pampered kid," says Nobunaga, rolling with eyes.

"Fun thing, the pampering happened to my mother, not to me." Hisoka tilts his head, but there's an edge to his voice.

He'd thought he was pampered. Even more than his mother. Gyro had even said Hisoka was better.

He hadn't known. He hadn't. Hisoka snickers to cover up an instinctual shiver.

Illumi has gone still. Killua knows his brother well enough to see that he is fighting to control his bloodlust.

 _What does Illumi know_? Killua didn't think there were secrets anymore.

* * *

"She wouldn't still be in Gyro's mansion, I presume?" Silva dodges the attack from a knife-wielding man and allows Kikyo to crush him into unconsciousness with her nen.

"She's far too old, now." Kikyo's heart flutters with misery. How unprofessional of her.

She's never escaped this city.

_"_ _Your children won't always save you."_

_"_ _Mine will." Kikyo sticks out her tongue and stomps away._

_But Illuna calls out to her. A question._

_"_ _It's his, isn't it?"_

_Kikyo doesn't say anything. She merely meets her friend's eyes, and that's enough._

_Because Illuna won't leave him now. She must stay his concubine as long as possible, for herself and her child, the bastard child Gyro's accepted like his own._

_"_ _He said he liked me because I looked very young, like a child," Kikyo says, her voice wavering. "He made me say I was younger."_

_The rest remains unspoken, but tangible._

_I didn't kill him for_ your _sake._

_Illuna looks at her chubby-cheeked baby, who cackles with glee as he chews her fingers._

_His face isn't hollow anymore. He's laughing, instead of crying for milk she wasn't able to provide._

_Illuna exhales. "…Better he's here than starving to death. Besides, you're a girl, and he is not."_

_Kikyo burns with fury. Perhaps Illuna hasn't changed. Perhaps her baby hasn't saved her after all._

_It doesn't matter. Hers will. Because she'll never risk them._

_She leaves as quickly as she can._

"If she's alive, we can locate her quickly. Redheaded prostitutes don't go out of fashion, even with age," Kikyo says.

Silva draws her closer to him. Possessively. She likes being his possession. "You're not like these people."

"I know." Kikyo smiles up at her towering husband. Silva married her the very day she dropped her raven-haired infant off on the orphanage door.

 _Now you're no longer Meteor City scum_ , he whispered, drawing her to his lips.  _Now you're a Zoldyck_.

Kikyo squares her shoulders as they approach the most popular brothel. She will let her name be her armor, and save her children before they save her.

* * *

"And?" Adorned in a fuchsia satin jacket and nen glitter, First Mate Mercyn – or Captain Mercyn – or Pariston Hill – eclipses the few stars visible above Meteor City's smog. Most of Kakin will remain on board for the few days they're docked here; only the queens have official business, and that won't start until dawn.

For now, he can meet his pawns safely on the dock without suspicion.

"And they didn't take our bait," Gyro says calmly.

"The magistrate?" Pariston asks abruptly.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore," Gyro says, at the same time Bizeff blurts out, "He's dead!"

Pariston draws back daintily. "Oh. Oh dear. I'd prefer not to know those dour details."

"There were riots after the death of the Spider," says Gyro.

Pariston smiles coyly. "Are you sure he's dead?"

"He had no pulse."

"Ah, but as I've told you, point one: Hisoka Morow has lost his heart to Illumi Zoldyck." Pariston holds up a finger with each point. "Point two: Illumi has recently reconciled with his siblings during our adventures in the Dark Continent. Point three: at least one of his siblings is a former Ai, a creature dangerous and powerful enough leave render raising the dead a distinct possibility."

Gyro wrinkles his nose. Hisoka had so much inhuman potential. Of all Gyro's mentees, Hisoka was the most murderous, the most sadistic, the most afraid of being human. The one who was eager to do whatever pleased Gyro.

And then he had to go and lose to Chrollo Lucilfer.

"I  _want_  those eyes," Pariston says irritably. "If we have to destroy all of Meteor City to obtain that Kurta, we will."

 _No_ , Gyro thinks _, you won't. I will get them, and use them to destroy you and your pet projects_.

"There's one thing," Gyro says. "Chrollo's actions made his feelings for that doxy perfectly clear."

"And yet, they weren't enough to spare Chrollo." Pariston wishes he could have seen the Spider writhe under the whip. The mightiest and strongest of nen users, reduced to a yielding lamb to save his hellion. "Now we have a city in chaos, hunters nearby, and possible Zoldycks."

Pariston leans closer. "You said you know this city."

"The Troupe barely count as citizens anymore."

"No? They send more aid than NGL ever did. Were you not just helping yourselves to their women and children?" Pariston giggles.

His eyes glitter. "I will succeed, and you will fail in your grand scheme. Whether you want to fail into your small schemes is up to you. But right now, Ant, you best remember  _I_  am your owner."

* * *

"Well, I think we have a solid plan with some of the most devious minds in the world," says Chrollo.

"That includes you, Chain Dude," Nobunaga says dryly.

Kurapika nods. He will – he will recover Chrollo's home if it's the last thing he does.

A part of him feels like it should be. Because when you've fallen so far, you slip on your way up.

Chrollo misses the closeness of their hug from earlier. Now it feels that Kurapika is avoiding his eyes, positioning himself just far enough away that Chrollo isn't touching him. "Kurapika…what is troubling you?"

Kurapika hesitates. Why speak in front of all these people?

But then, they all heard his crimes earlier today. Or most of them did. They all know by now. Why should he keep any secrets? Why should he not lay his shame bare?

"I regressed, as if I'd learned nothing." Kurapika bows his head. "I tried to use Emperor Time, I tried to kill myself, I spat on all of you."

"It happens under duress," Gon says sympathetically.

"I can't forgive myself." Kurapika's jaw twitches. "I don't learn. Even if we survive, even if we win – I don't think I'm fit to be here."

"Are you kidding me?" Palm laughs. "I'm sorry, but let me repeat: you're surrounded by assassins, thieves, mass murderers, trauma victims and mixtures of different species, and you think  _you're_  unfit? Don't think so highly of yourself."

"I regressed –"

"You didn't regress." Phinks shoves his hands in his pockets. "From what I can tell, you at least finally let  _your_  friends save  _you_."

"Does that make you his friend?" Hisoka claps his hands together.

"Don't push it," Phinks warns.

"Yes," Oito says simultaneously, throwing a grin his way.

"It makes us his friends, of a sort. You could have fought us if you wanted to." Machi addresses Kurapika.

"You're pregnant," Kurapika protests.

"I'm not fragile, goddammit!" Machi shakes her fist in his face. "I'll still beat your ass in arm-wrestling. Just like I beat Danchou!"

"Wait, really?" Kalluto demands.

"And I beat  _you_." Feitan grins.

"Shut up, you." Machi pinches him.

"That is fucking adorable." Hisoka grins, because he loves bothering Feitan. The little man's cheeks heat up whenever Machi touches him.

Chrollo watches them all in amusement. He feels warm, and alive, so alive he wants to stay alive. "I forgot how much I loved this."

"Bickering?" Franklin asks.

"It's like family," Melody suggests.

"A very dysfunctional one," says Shoot.

"Still less dysfunctional than the Zoldycks." Tsubone clears her throat. "If you don't mind me saying."

Illumi shakes his head. A lump rise in his throat. These people – are like family to him, too – well, many of them. And unlike his parents, he doesn't fear them.

He's not sure that's a good thing. Well, it feels good, but is it good? He's been told his entire life it isn't.

Chrollo turns to Kurapika. Kurapika's worst crimes were better than Chrollo's best. Had he ever stopped to consider that some of his victims might have been pregnant?

He wants to tell Kurapika that, to drill into his stubborn golden head that he has hope and love and friendship, and that he can accept the aid of his friends. That he can be an accepter, for once, instead of a giver.

But now is not the time, despite his love for the people gathered.

"We're going to reclaim this city." He holds out his hand to Kurapika. "And I want you by my side, Kura."

The soft, buttery way Chrollo speaks his special nickname pierces through Kurapika's self-prison. He takes Chrollo's hand, and Chrollo pulls him to his feet, draws him close until their chest are touching.

"Yes."

Hisoka cocks his head. "I'm unsure if we're witnessing a wartime alliance or an engagement."


	41. Living Ghosts

**Chapter Forty-One**

**Living Ghosts**

**Content: Continued discussions of childhood sexual assault and victim-blaming.**

_Engagement_? Kurapika seizes internally as Hisoka cackles.

Chrollo's breath – his real, living breath – warms Kurapika's ear. "I wouldn't mind both."

Kurapika is dumbfounded. A few hours ago he saw Chrollo die. And yet, now, right here, Kurapika can feel his heartbeat, pressed against Kurapika's own.

Here they are, two people who haunt each other. Living ghosts. And he wants nothing more than everything Chrollo is.

"He's blushing." Hisoka narrates.

"Which one?"

"Both," Bonolenov says with amusement.

"Danchou?" Nobunaga gasps.

With a spark of sass, Kurapika stands on his toes to press his lips against Chrollo's, which are as soft and warm and welcoming as ever.

In the Kurta tribe, a public kiss before family and friends was equivalent to engagement. Kurapika is certain Chrollo doesn't know that, and he won't assume anything.

But for now, this declaration is meaningful enough to him. He doesn't want to leave Chrollo, never again.

Chrollo's lips travel back to his ear. "Your eyes. Happy scarlet?"

Kurapika nods, and Chrollo pinches his shoulder, sending shivers of delight throughout Kurapika's body.

"Get a room," Phinks says to hide his own smile.

"We're in one, technically." Illumi shrugs.

"Is Illumi attempting jokes now? I'm not ready for this," Milluki grouses.

Illumi looks hurt.

"Illumi's last idea of a joke was telling Master Killua he was gonna kill him." Canary volunteers.

"So what you're saying is his humor's improving," Machi teases.

Illumi cringes. That was just before he made his intentions to kill Alluka and Nanika clear. He's so relieved he lost that contest.

"I like this joke better," Killua says, giving Illumi a knowing smile. He doesn't hold that against Illumi, not anymore. He just wants to know what Illumi is hiding.

Illumi smiles back, but gives nothing more.

"Shall we, then?" Oito claps her hands.

"Divide and conquer," Morel intones.

"I prefer to think it stealing back what ours," Feitan says.

"You can think it hunting, thieving, politics, medicine and a circus if you want," says Beyond. "I can't say any description would be wrong. There's something for all of us to do."

"Here. You'll need this." As the kids file out the door, under the cover of nightfall, Nanika hands a shirt she's created to Chrollo, along with a rag to cover his tattoo. The fabric is thin, but it was all the nen she could manage.

Hisoka doubles over laughing. That's it; he's definitely acting jumpy. How un-Hisoka.

"Thank you," Chrollo says, ignoring his concerns to bow once more to her.

"What?" Nanika frowns, even as she pats Chrollo's head. "Why is Hisoka laughing?"

Machi groans. But her eyes meet Chrollo's, and he nods assurance back to her. He'll handle whatever secret Hisoka has.

Hisoka rubs his hands together. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell him to put a shirt on?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't 'why is Hisoka laughing' always the question?" Knov pushes his glasses back up his nose.

"Don't ask more!" Gon shrieks.

"Gon's still traumatized from Illumi's attempts at education," Killua informs Tsubone, who looks ill at the thought.

* * *

Machi and Feitan weren't kidding. This tavern, constructed entirely of crumbling concrete blocks, and stocked with half-drunk alcohol bottles encrusted with rubbish, is crowded despite the bloody bodies lying in the street. Casualties of the riots. Of lost hope and faith. And now the survivors imbibe until they forget their lives, as their reward.

Ikalgo clears his throat. The small orange octopus stands out amongst the seedy folk pouring alcohol on themselves as bathwater or crying into their pints. He seems entirely alone, but behind him, Meleoron, Machi, and Feitan are wholly invisible. Waiting.

"Hey! Can I have more rum?!"

The bartender, who mans a makeshift bar that was probably once a rich child's table, glares at him with annoyance.

 _Make a scene_ , Machi had told Ikalgo. Well. This will be a scene.

"Hey, what is this? Octopus discrimination? Chimera Ant discrimination? I could eat you if I wanted!" Ikalgo shakes his tentacles.

The bartender frowns.

"Animal cruelty! That's what this is!" Ikalgo laughs with the self-hatred he, well, often feels as a half-octopus who used to be a man.

"It's also bullshit." He feigns drunkenness as he slides out of his seat and towards the door. "Oh, yeah, easy to be mean to the octopus. Even vegetarians still eat fish! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"

He feigns staggers down the street, only pop behind the next mound of trash. "Well?"

"Sorry," Machi says as they reappear. "No one's following yet."

"You mean I gotta do this again?" Ikalgo grumbles.

"At least there alcohol?" Feitan suggests.

Ikalgo frowns. Alcohol is jus a reminder of how little he can drink now. He used to out-drink everyone in his squadron back in NGL.

He's changed. And so has Gyro, if he is truly the one behind all this, and despite the warmth of this new family, Ikalgo still hopes to reunite with his king.

* * *

The tent by the circus is now occupied by only four individuals. Kurapika and Chrollo in hiding, until they receive a call from Machi and Feitan.

And Hisoka and Illumi, their unlikely bodyguards.

"So, Kurapika, if I showed you – " Hisoka gestures between his thighs. "Would you be able to size me in comparison to Chrollo?"

"Shut up!" Kurapika lurches back. Chrollo drags a protective hand around Kurapika's shoulders and fixes Hisoka with a glare.

"You didn't even glare that hard when I tried to kill you," Hisoka says with a whistle.

"What if you're smaller?" Illumi asks as he sticks another needle in the ground. He's constructive a doll of needles. Anything to stay busy. Anything to distract.

"I bet I'm still more skilled," Hisoka purrs, running his hands across Illumi's chest.

"Mmm, or you'll kill more of the Troupe for vengeance for losing a fair contest," Illumi says dryly.

"Would I ever?" Hisoka gasps slightly. He's more offended that Illumi hasn't kissed him in ten minutes than anything else.

"Probably." Illumi moves to build another doll, ignoring his husband.

Hisoka pouts. "Well, Kurapika? Is Chrollo enjoyable at least?"

Kurapika squirms.

Chrollo pulls Kurapika practically onto his lap. To be honest, he wants to take Kurapika right now, to give the man he loves the enjoyment he's long denied himself. But he'll settle for holding him tight and burying his face in his shoulder.

Hisoka pokes Kurapika's flushed cheeks. "I'll take that as a yes. Illumi, allow me to prove myself better than Chrollo."

"I'm not sleeping with Chrollo to compare," Illumi murmurs.

"Of course not." Hisoka acts shocked. "I merely want to place only myself in your mind…and," he adds slyly, "in you."

Kurapika curses the luck that made him work with these two. "What is wrong with you two? You're both odder than normal."

"We're not at all," Illumi says, as Hisoka sobers.

"Then let's rephrase," says Chrollo, relieved that Kurapika and Machi have noticed as well. "What are you hiding?"

* * *

"Who's this 'acquaintance?'" Leorio presses as follows Cheadle down a dirty road. For someone so short, she walks fast; in fact, her stride easily outpaces his.

"No one I wish to talk to, but certainly powerful enough," she says, as evasive as she had been when she mentioned a "friend, no, an acquaintance" who could help them.

"The tracker I attached to him says in room 203." Cheadle stops before a sagging building that's been painted magenta – likely the only paint they could find in Meteor City. Towels hang where windows should be. A motel that should have been condemned, but then, this entire city is condemned.

"Really, that was the second most satisfying thing I've ever seen. Him walking off, not realizing I can follow his every move." Cheadle snorts as she approaches it, seemingly without fear of the building crushing them all.

"You're devious," Leorio teases.

"When necessary." Cheadle grins. "Think worse of me?"

"No. I think you'll be an even better leader like that," Leorio says.

"Heh." Cheadle huffs, entering the motel. The man at the desk is asleep, and that's just as well. He wears the nicest clothes Leorio has seen here, save for Valdrada – that is, an untorn T-shirt and jeans.

"If it makes you feel better, the  _most_  satisfying thing I've seen is you punching Ging. I almost made it my ringtone." Cheadle sniffs.

"Are you kidding?" Leorio feels delighted as they climb the creaking stairs. A cockroach buzzes past Leorio's ear, and he leaps instinctively.

"Careful!" Cheadle grabs his hand as he dangles on the edge of the stairs. "Don't fall."

"I hate bugs," he grumbles, embarrassed.

"I'll save you from bugs if you save me from mice," she says casually. As if she doesn't hold his quirks against him, as if he's not silly.

"Deal." Leorio has to smile.

The sheet taped over where the door should be is coated in dust, though 203 is scribbled on the cloth. Cheadle coughs as she pushes it aside.

A figure lounges in bed, bathed in moonlight filtered through the towel hanging in the open window.

"Evading responsibilities again, hmm?" Cheadle raises her voice. She crosses her arms.

Leorio's mouth falls open. "Bastard!"

Ging Freecs rubs his eyes as he sits up.

* * *

"Hisoka, a moment of seriousness?" Chrollo asks to fill in the palpable silence. Dawn breaks outside, peeking through the cracks in the tent door. A dawn he wouldn't see if it weren't for this obnoxious, irritatingly dear clown.

Hisoka purrs. "Always for you, Danchou."

"I'm not your Danchou," Chrollo reminds him.

"You're right, Illumi is." Hisoka points towards his husband, who looks like he's just swallowed vinegar. "Call me that next time we're fucking."

"You mean he hasn't already? I'm surprised," Kurapika isn't sure he's ever uttered something so crude and sarcastic before, but he's also hugging his resurrected lover and former enemy, whilst planning an overthrow of the mafia, whilst befriending Illumi and Hisoka, so really, why not?

"What are you two up to?" Illumi's eyes dart between their faces.

"I think you know," Chrollo says, his sorrow building.

"I don't but let's pretend I do." Hisoka's laugh sounds even more high-pitched and desperate.

"You've been acting odd since we mentioned Gyro." Chrollo's eyes linger on Hisoka a moment.

Suspicious eyes.

"You think I'll betray you again?" Hisoka asks sweetly. His heart feels ill.

"No, I don't." Chrollo swallows back his questions. Gyro's flippant confession to what Pakunoda had always alleged never surprised Chrollo.

Hisoka's palpable discomfort at the mention of Gyro merely fits with everything Chrollo already knows. That, and the fact that Illumi's bloodlust rises at the very mention of his name.

"You have enough secrets to ruin Gyro forever, don't you?" Chrollo asks quietly.

Hisoka stiffens. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're far too calm right now for the Hisoka I know," Kurapika says.

"Here I thought I was too much."

"You were until Chrollo asked," Kurapika counters.

"I don't think you want to continue." Hisoka bites off each word.

Chrollo shakes his head. "You're a good actor. I should have known. It's not that you're uninterested in the past. It's that you can't face it."

"I said, stop." Hisoka draws back.

"It's not your fault." Illumi lowers his voice.

And now Kurapika gasps. Because he hadn't realized the obvious issue before – it was too ugly even for him to consider – but suddenly everything makes sense.

"You're assuming far too much." Hisoka knows better. He knows it is his fault. He wasn't a victim, just an idiot kid.

But he still grieves, because he's selfish and because he wishes it didn't bother him.

Were his sexual taunts tonight all just a desire to think of sex in any other capacity than – what he brought on himself as a kid?

He told Illumi that he was raped, and Hisoka almost wants to believe he was, and he knows that even legally it was, but he can't believe it truly was. He wanted it; he'd thought it was love.

And he can't ever, ever bear that truth made manifest.

* * *

Ikalgo hums to himself as he waits outside a rotten food stand. It's now noon, and the bodies that crowded the square last have been dumped on the city outskirts. Flies that feast on drops of blood are the only signs that death was ever here.

Machi and Feitan are certain he's been followed since sunrise, and frankly, Ikalgo is tired of waiting.

"Hey friend!" Meleoron 'appears' besides the stand. Two ants now, to sweeten the deal.

"Hey," Ikalgo says, feigning surprise. "I've missed you, dude!"

"Yeah, dude. Really." Meleoron is no good at faking things.

Ikalgo tries not to cringe. "Let's blow this stand. Did I tell ya, I saw our king yesterday!"

"Our king?" Meleoron claps his hands to his cheeks.

From behind the fruit stand, Machi tries to stifle her giggles.

"Calm," Feitan says.

"I think the kid is making me laugh more," she says, touching her slight stomach.

"Excuse," Feitan retorts, but a shiver runs through him every time she mentions  _the kid_.

He killed kids.

Is he much better than the mafia they've decided to overthrow?

He's scared. He wants to lock himself in a room with Machi and kiss her stomach and freeze time so they stay there, waiting for their kid, forever.

"I'm pregnant and angry. Let me laugh."

"Excuses!" Feitan shoots back, harder, and they exchange smirks.

Machi's head whips around. "Here we go." A figure, masked except for their eyes – not at all unusual in Meteor City – approaches their ant friends. His shadow blocks the sunlight. In this heat, she's not complaining –

But her instincts scream.

Machi sends a hasty text to Chrollo, and her blood chills. She looks up, expectant.

"Feitan."

He barely has time to turn around before a faction of masked men surrounds them.

"More Spiders?" asks one.

"Ant guardians, actually," Machi says breezily, nodding to a horrified Ikalgo.

"Good. You'll be coming with us." The man reaches out to crush Machi's cell phone. Two more hold Feitan.

"That's expensive. You should have at least sold it," she jokes.

Feitan feels a surge of panic as the man punches her in her stomach. " _Machi_!"

* * *

Kikyo wrinkles her nose as she passes through the narrow, infested halls that smell of urine and tears. Silva barely squeezes through behind her.

She broke into many a brothel to kill. Save an acquaintance an unfortunate lover, kill someone in their most vulnerable state.

These are worse than she remembers. She almost hates herself for forgetting.

This is the fourth brothel she's visited, each farther from the center square, which means each is worse than the last.

_Second on the right._

Kikyo pushes open the door, refusing to allow herself hesitation, refusing to allow Silva to think her weak.

Even after a quarter-century of marriage, she doesn't trust him, does she? She's never escaped this place.

A tall woman with red hair and high-cheekbones rolls over, wearing nothing but stained satin sheets. Those yellow cat eyes are unmistakable, even though they're glazed from alcohol and, judging by the syringe on her nightstand, D2. "I told you, I don't want customers –"

Kikyo yanks off her visor as Silva closes the door behind them. "Illuna."


	42. Life, the Universe, and Everything

**Chapter Forty-Two**

**Life, the Universe, and Everything**

**Content: Continued discussion of sexual trauma.**

The seven queens of Kakin, along with willing princes, have gathered once more in the main hall of the Black Whale. Oito stands before her former sister-wives with Woble in her arms and Phinks by her side. Shizuku, Melody, and Beyond stand behind her.

"So you're saying the accusations against your executed friend were false?" Prince Tubeppa asks.

Oito hesitates.

"No," Phinks says quickly. Danchou would want to keep suspicion off Kurapika. Even if Phinks hates Chrollo's decision, he'll honor it.

"Then it will look like we're meddling if we interfere with Meteor City's justice system," says Queen Swinko-swinko. "Unless there's more to the story you haven't shared."

"There's much more," says Shizuku firmly.

"Isn't there always?" Beyond intones.

"Gyro is a political criminal, for one," says Melody. "It's not interfering if you arrest an international criminal."

"Yet he's protected by his Chimera Ant status," Queen Duazal says softly.

Oito groans.

"Do you have something to say, Oito?"

"I have many things to say. This is a city where children are enslaved for labor, murder, and sex. How can we walk away?" Oito demands.

"We can't very well conquer them. And then what? We leave and the citizens retreat to the same familiar structures they know. A new evil arises. That's how it goes," Queen Unma argues.

"You leave, yes, but we won't," says Shizuku. "Right, Phinks?"

Phinks nods. "The Spiders know Meteor City. Most of us are from here. We can help once Gyro and the mafia's board of elders are removed."

"But the people  _believe_  in Gyro," says Queen Seiko. "They will be loyal to what they believe in."

"They also believed in the Spiders," says Phinks. "Until the trial. They can be persuaded."

"We seem to be misunderstanding each other. I'm not suggesting you conquer Meteor City. I'd fight you if you did," says Oito, rubbing Woble's head. "I'm suggestion you each use your power as queens to expose Gyro for who he truly is."

"Why would they care? Most people are murderers and thieves, no?" Unma sips her tea.

"They care about  _loyalty_ to the City," Phinks shoots back. "If we expose him as a traitor, the one behind the disappearance of the Chimera Ants who fled here, perspectives will change. I know it. I know this city."

"Why should we trust a murderous thief and a queen who threw her life away to be his paramour?" Queen Katrono asks.

Oito eyes her. "You're still a bitch, I see. I hope you're treating your daughter better."

Unma tries to mask a laugh by choking on her tea. Queen Sevanti claps a hand over her mouth.

"I – look, Your Highness, you can insult me. I probably deserve it." Phinks' face is pink with fury. Christ, Oito won't even sleep with him before they're married to avoid this issue, but people are still assuming.

He's undeserving of her, and he knows that. He doesn't care.

"But I have no intention of allowing you to impugn Queen Oito's honor. She's – compassionate, and kind, and wise, and clever – she's the purest person I know – better than all of you – "

"What Phinks is  _saying_  is political alliances aren't always built on individual trust, and frankly, having ties to Meteor City would be to your advantage," Shizuku finishes in a hurry. Before Phinks can get them all arrested, again. She, for one, is tired of jail. "We would help suggest that alliance to whomever replaces the Elders."

"Wouldn't an alliance with the mafia also be an advantage?" Unma asks.

Melody smiles. Queen Unma is not arguing because she disagrees, but because she quite agrees.

"They'd seem it," Oito says. "But you know as well as I that systems built on lust and treason cannot last."

Unma's eyes spark. "What, then, would you have us do?"

* * *

The room reeks of liquor, smoke, sweat, and now, fear. Kikyo, despite her fierce face, is terrified, and Illuna caught off guard –the only time a Morow will ever reveal their real feelings.

Illuna purses her lips before bursting into forced laughter. "Well, this is a surprise."

"You had to know. You warned me once." Kikyo holds her breath.

Silva would be so disappointed if she said this aloud, but she's never shaken it.

 _"_ _You never escape this place_."  _Illuna shook her head at the girl who was doing her best to hide her contractions. Doing her best to pretend she wasn't just escaping with a rich man, just like Illuna._

_"_ _I already have." Kikyo smirked. "I wish you the best in life."_

_"_ _We'll see each other again." Illuna waved languidly. "I never say goodbyes."_

"That wasn't my wisdom. I just repeated what someone had told me. It's what I've always done." Illuna staggers to her bureau. Instead of clothes, she pulls out a bottle of liquor so strong it wrinkles even Silva's nose.

Illuna gulps the brew down. "Here to murder our tyrannical ant king, I hope?"

"Your paramour?" Kikyo folds her arms. She doesn't believe Chrollo Lucilfer's death for a second, and if Gyro is half as smart as he is diabolical, he wouldn't either.

"Not anymore." Illuna smiles bitterly. She hiccups and sways onto her bed, still clutching the bottle like it's her precious baby. "Not for a long time."

She grins. "On the bright side, that means I'm all yours. Care for a threesome?"

Silva blanches. For once, Kikyo is the one unperturbed. This is typical Illuna Morow.

"Was it worth it? Trading in your comfort for your child?" Kikyo is unsurprised; Illuna was always forward. In fact, Illuna was her first kiss, because Illuna needed practice and Kikyo thought kissing might be a good way to subdue her target before killing them.

"He never gave a shit anyways." Illuna hates these two. She hates their presence. She hates what they remind her of. She hates that they have a family.

"Probably mutual," Silva says, crossing his arms.

"His name was Hisoka, wasn't it?" Kikyo demands.

"Who?" Illuna offers them a toothy grin.

"Don't play dumb. You know I'm talking about your bastard," Kikyo snaps.

"You remember it better than me!" Illuna leans forward to clap her hands. She chortles, and it's so forced and fake, Kikyo want to slit her throat.

"Well, your brat married  _my_  son," Kikyo retorts.

"The shorty that barely reaches his chest?" Illuna gasps. "Now that must be a sight."

Blood drains from Kikyo's face. Illumi is tall, like Silva. It's his one saving grace. She – she means –

Silva wraps an arm around his wife's waist. "Whomever you just mentioned is  _not_  her son."

"Not yours, you mean." Illuna winks. "Does it bother you? That you can't own that part of her? That she was already broken before you owned her?"

"Marriage isn't ownership," Kikyo recites. "We're partners."

"Uh-huh." Illuna takes another swig of booze.

Silva fumes. Of course he wishes he could have married Kikyo before Gyro attacked her. Of course he would have liked him, only him, to ever enter her. That's his weakness; that's why he made sure his children couldn't suffer the same – well, that and watching the toll assault and unsatisfied vengeance took on Kikyo. Though he did admire her devotion to the assassin's code. He might have killed Gyro, but she did not.

But he's never, ever faulted Kikyo.

"I watched  _your_  son grow up. Just in case you ever returned. Just in case you remembered." Illuna's eyes mist over. "He looks just like you, Kikyo, but rumor is he's a sadist like his father."

"I don't care who he is," Kikyo says, tripping over her words.

"Yes, you do." Illuna says. A knowing grin blooms on her face. "You're here, what, to use me as a hostage to break up your son's homosexual marriage? How pitiable. And bigoted."

A hostage? No, she only wanted – to see if Illuna – could break through to her son. Could shame him into saving Illumi! She's not bigoted; it'd be fine if Illumi wasn't a  _Zoldyck_.

"Let me tell you a secret." Illuna beckons Kikyo closer, though she refuses to move from Silva's side.

"My son doesn't care about me. And your children  _definitely_  don't care about you."

"Liar," Kikyo says, her voice high.

Illuna laughs madly. "What? You can judge me all you want, but I'm not the one still crying over sex I didn't want. I may be a whore, but I'm not still caught up on one big, powerful man who shoved his cock into me when I was a wittle child."

Kikyo is frozen to the spot. It hurts. It hurts all over. She remembers being lured into his mansion, promised a contract, and she'd worn her best kimono because he was a good customer, and she wanted to impress him. And then when it happened, her training betrayed her. Because she hadn't been asked to kill him. She couldn't defend herself. She just laid there and cried as quietly as she could. So he wouldn't be mad.

And she made her kids suffer the same. They do hate her, don't they?

No, it's not the same. She let them kill their attackers.

"Ha!" Illuna points to the ceiling. "There's something lucky about being a prostitute. You want it all. Want is the key."

"Apologize to my wife," Silva growls. He's rarely, if ever, shocked, but now he is. How dare this bitch be glib about what's tormented Kikyo her entire life?

Illuna ignores them both to prattle on. "That's I told Hisoka, too: want everything, so nothing bad ever happens to you."

"Did you say that as Gyro helped himself to your boy, too?" Kikyo's always hated Illuna, and now she sees why. Because Illuna didn't care about saving her kid. And now Illuna's hurting kid is hurting Kikyo's son. It's all Illuna's fault.

Illuna is past responding directly to Kikyo – too intoxicated by hatred, drugs, and drink. Besides, she never noticed anything wrong with Hisoka. Gyro wanted her, not her son. "How well-adjusted are your children, if you've never recovered after all these years?"

Kikyo stutters.

"I guess your kids didn't save you after all, Kikyo dear." Illuna waves her fingers. "Bye-bye, now."

Silva would like to snap this harlot's neck, or tear out her heart, and not neatly. He'd enjoy spilling blood, torturing her in the slowest manner possible.

But there's no point. He's an assassin. "She's not worth it, Kikyo."

He grabs his wife and hauls her out of that bitch's room before Kikyo can break down. He will spare her such humiliation.

* * *

In the closet down the hall, the closet crowded with oily clothes and stolen jewelry, Killua shakes. Gon has clamped his hand over his best friend's mouth, and Alluka looks ill. Kalluto holds Nanika as she silently sobs into his shoulder.

His parents pass by the closet they've infiltrated. Nanika's nen keeps them hidden.

Silva holds Kikyo close to him. He even rubs her back. More affection than he's ever shown to any of his children.

"Mom," Killua whimpers.

Kalluto looks at his phone.  _Focus on the mission, not your feelings_. Illumi told him that once. And Feitan said similar, so he listened. "Franklin's on the trail."

Nanika had used her nen to locate them here, in this horrible place. The kids would rescue the children, starting with those in the brothels. Meanwhile, Franklin, Bonlenov, Nobunaga, Morel, Knov, Shoot, and Knuckle would keep an eye on the Zoldyck parents and restrain them if needed.

"Good," Gon says, releasing Killua, who wants to crumple to the floor, but it's too crowded.

"This is terrible. We should never have come here. Nothing – nothing matters, nothing at all." Killua's tears spill over. If he ever adopts kids with Gon, he'll hurt them too, won't he?

He hates this. He hates that he can't hate his parents. He hates that that horrible woman, Hisoka's mother, is right. Mother never escaped.

Illuna's harsh voice cuts them off.

"I know you don't want to talk to me, but you should know the Zoldycks are here. The parents." Hisoka's mother snaps.

Presumably to a cell phone. Presumably to Gyro.

"No, we should be here, see?" Alluka says quietly. "She's calling Gyro. It's important to know what he knows."

Killua is taken aback.

"What? I didn't learn  _nothing_  growing up a Zoldyck," she says, summoning a slight smile.

Illumi tried to teach her once. When they didn't know what she could do, he'd suggested early training to control Nanika. But soon their fear overrode all else, and they lured her into her special room, locked her up.

Alluka wants to hug all the kids here. She knows what it's like to be trapped.

"We should go get the kids. They're in the cellar," says Nanika, sensing her twin's thoughts.

"Wait." Killua begs. "Can we at least – at least face this woman?"

He can't face Kikyo and Silva, but he can face Hisoka's mother.

"Okay," says Gon. "But I'll stop you if needed."

It's too crowded for Killua to wipe the tears off his face, so Gon does. "I know you will."

* * *

"I hope your distraction works." Gyro hates Illuna. He hates hearing from this pathetic, chaotic whore, and he usually does, several times a day. She can't handle that she's gotten older. That she's unloved.

Instead of allowing lovelessness to morph her into a noble creature, as he had, she's drowning in it.

Gyro hangs up as quickly as possible. A member of the Phantom Troupe who looks like Kikyo…

Now, he has two of them, to do as he pleases. So long as Pariston doesn't wish to experiment on them yet, and he's still too fascinated by ants and Scarlet Eyes.

_Curing the world!_

_Saving the world!_

_Raising the dead!_

_Uniting the species!_

_Make the world glitter and glow_! Okay, maybe Pariston has never precisely said that one.

Gyro hates all of it. He hates the idea of saving anyone or anything. No one saved him from his own useless drunk of a father, and that was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He glides down the wide, cracked taeonite stairwell directly below the Hall of Elders. A stairwell meant for sacrifices to some Meteor God half a millenia ago, when their founder envisioned a city to dominate the world.

 _We're not going to dominate; we're going to change_! Pariston likes to say.

Gyro doesn't want to dominate, either. He just wants their city to destroy the world.

He hurries past the room of experiments, past the moans and tears of stupid people who don't deserve to keep on living, and prays to himself that Pariston doesn't notice him.

* * *

The dank cell smells of rusted iron. And indeed, there's rust on the ceiling, but also twinkles of green gems and black specks as smooth as the night sky.

 _Is this a meteorite_? Feitan wonders as his memories and vision slowly return, ebbing to and from his mind and eyes.

Danchou would like this place. This isn't where he was held; he would have mentioned it. This must be where the ants are.

Machi would like this place, too; he'd like to steal a green stone for her and one for their baby girl. Feitan has decided it's going to be a girl.

"Hi there," stutters a girl before him dripping water onto Feitan's sore forehead.

Someone must have knocked him out. They must have been very strong.

And Machi – she was hurt – Feitan's panic returns.

"Where Machi?" Feitan's grammar is always worse when he's stressed. He jerks away from the chipped cup of water she offers him.

This girl looks no older than Gon or Killua. She has tangled golden hair and anxious brown eyes that are beginning to tear. "P – please drink. If you don't, you'll die sooner, and he'll take me to the experiment room for not keeping you alive!"

She stomps her foot.

How childish. Like a kid.

Kids.

Feitan – the last thing he remembers is Machi clutching her stomach. He must ask again. "Where is Machi?"

But he finds himself sipping the water anyways. Almost unconsciously. So he doesn't hurt her. As if by helping her, he'll redeem all the children he's killed so that fate doesn't take Machi's child.

The girl is visibly relieved. Feitan clings to that.

"I don't know who that is; I'm only brought here to serve and then I'm sent back into my cell." Her voice cracks.

Feitan hates emotions, because he's spent so much time repressing his own. Because when he was doctored in the art of torture, they beat the rest of the emotions out of him – the fear and anger. The rest of those emotions had been beaten out by the orphanage before the mafia took him.

"What your name?" he tries a roundabout method. Sometimes that works in interrogations. Feigning empathy.

"I'm Hina. I'm a Chimera Ant, and I  _hate_  people." She angrily brushes away the tears that spill over her cheeks

The ants. So Machi's instincts were correct. "Where Ikalgo and Meleoron?"

"I don't know  _anyone_! I was only sent to this room where I saw  _you_!" She stomps her foot again. "Only you; why is this so hard?!"

The sound of someone sliding the latch of from the door draws a gasp from Hina. She begins to shake.

"Calm," Feitan tries to tell her. How can he make her calm down? How can he talk to children besides Kalluto? And Kalluto has already been trained beyond his years.

He's doomed to hurt his little girl, isn't he?

Feitan glares at the door as it slowly opens.

* * *

"Gon stole Hisoka's badge somewhere on the island. I wish I could have seen it," Illumi says. "But exposing myself further would have been an unnecessary risk."

"He then promptly got himself captured. I rescued him, for the record. And returned both his badge and my own, but he followed me around determined that he hadn't earned it. He wanted to punch me." Hisoka grins. "Good old days."

These are past days he rather enjoyed. He can discuss these, at least, as a distraction from his own despair. And Chrollo is fascinated, while Kurapika and Illumi provide interesting perspectives of their own.

Kurapika snorts. "I was waiting for you to kill us all the entire exam."

"I would have spared Illumi and Gon."

Illumi glares at him. " _And_  Killua. Also, you couldn't kill me."

"Wait, I think I almost killed you, Kura," Hisoka says, ignoring Illumi's challenge despite the delighted smile on his face. He turns to Kurapika. "Was this in the marshes?"

"Yes. I remember," Kurapika says.

"Am I allowed to call you Kura, or is that Chrollo's special sugar name for you?"

"We all know you'll call me that no matter how I answer," Kurapika mutters, reddening. He straightens.

"But whatever Chrollo calls you will always be special, because it's from the man you love," Illumi says. Is this how reassurance works? Maybe?

Chrollo exchanges a smile with a ruffled Kurapika.

"Ooh! I almost forgot! We were set up to face each other during the final exam, too, Kura!" Hisoka claps his hands. "That was fun."

"It set us both on a path of destruction," Kurapika exclaims.

"Pshhh," responds Hisoka.

"This sounds interesting." Chrollo leans forward. He, personally, would love to see Hisoka and Kurapika fight. But not to the death.

"It was boring," Illumi says flatly.

"The only action was whispering in Kurapika's ear everything he wanted to hear, and he agreed to accept my surrender," Hisoka says with a snigger.

"Wait – Kura _pika_  – Hisoka surrendered to  _you_?" Chrollo whistles. "Did I mention I find you incredibly sexy, Kurapika?"

"He whispered your location so I could hunt you all in Yorknew," Kurapika confesses, clapping his hands over his cheeks.

Chrollo's face falls. "You planned on selling us out that early, Hisoka?"

"I mean, it wasn't a betrayal for the sake of betrayal, or anything personal. I planned from Day One to fight you, so, selling you out was kinda just a given?" Hisoka clucks his tongue. "By the way, I enjoy how you blame me and not your bedmate."

"He died for Kurapika yesterday. Why would he get mad at him now?" Illumi remarks.

Kurapika's face burns. He stutters.

"He's cute like all embarrassed like that," Hisoka says.

"Very." Chrollo smiles at Kurapika. "Potently tempting."

"Lucky I have Illumi."

"Excuse me?" Both Illumi and Kurapika shout in unison.

"I'm joking." Hisoka rolls his eyes.

Chrollo can't resist teasing Kura further. He reaches over to wrap Kurapika in his arms, to position his head directly over Kurapika's heart. "I'm lucky to know him."

Kurapika smiles now, a bit sadly.

"Aw, Chrollo, your fiancé's misdeed still trouble him," Hisoka says.

"Fiancé?" Kurapika chokes out. There's no way –

"…Am I wrong? Illumi told me that kissing in public is considered engagement by the Kurta clan." Hisoka offers Kurapika a cheeky grin. "Though I recall you were  _already_  caught doing more."

"You –" Kurapika gasps.

Chrollo stiffens. His lips part as he draws back to regard Kurapika, who looks all too exposed.

 _He really_ … Chrollo feels as though he is detached from his body once again. His voice is low. "Is it? Kura?"

"It isn't – I – I mean, it is – but – how did Illumi – I just wanted to kiss you – none of you are Kurtas – it's meaningless," Kurapika insists.

"Not to me." Chrollo fumbles to take Kurapika's hands in his. He positions himself kneeling in front of Kurapika.

His eyes meet Kurapika, somber grey eyes to frightened scarlet. "Would you – I mean – do you intend to be my husband?"

The word  _husband_  warms his tongue, a word he never thought he would say, and now Chrollo's eyes are frightened, too.

Kurapika wants to scream and run. Now is hardly the time or place – in front of  _Hisoka_  and  _Illumi_ , of all people?

He wants this too much. He doesn't deserve to have this.

But they're in a city where no one get what they deserve, good or bad. Maybe there's a lesson in there, somewhere, a lesson not just for Meteor City, but for life, the universe, and everything.

"Yes," Kurapika reveals, trembling. "If you will have me."

"Forever," Chrollo promises. Kurapika's words have hardly finished when the vow leaves his mouth. He reaches over to capture Kurapika's lips once more.

Illumi claps, before scowling at Hisoka, who very obviously has his phone on record. "You're incorrigible."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me," Hisoka replies. "Wait, they're  _still_  kissing."

Chrollo's phone buzzes, interrupting them. But at least he can glare at Hisoka while Kurapika fishes his phone from his pocket.

"Sounds like our plan is working." Kurapika swallows as he reads Machi's texts. "Well, it's Machi from Feitan's phone. Sounds like they broke hers. Either way, it's time to move."


	43. Instinct

**Chapter Forty-Three**

**Instinct**

Machi awakens to her head pounding alongside her heart. She's in a small, moist cell, hardly big enough for her. Someone like Hisoka probably wouldn't even fit.

Chains fasten her to a pillar in the center, though she is too tall to stand straight. A pillar that, from what she can make out, seems to represent a grotesque god with human physique, and a giant rotunda for a head. But most of the details have chaffed away.

"Ikalgo!" Machi hisses, spying the orange octopus chained to the wall, staring at the locked door. Her nen threads weave around her hands, strong enough to pick the lock on her cuffs.

Machi falls free. This is according to plan, but where is Meleoron? Where is Feitan?

She lifts her shirt. Her stomach is bruising, but she doesn't feel any bleeding. She must be okay, right?

Her baby is okay? Machi pokes her stomach, unsure how to ask an undeveloped human if they are still alive.  _Daddy and I expect you by the end of the year, okay_?

"Machi!" As soon as he notices her, and her bruise, Ikalgo struggles desperately against his bonds. He is chained to the wall.

"Hold on." Machi crawls over and quickly dismantles the lock. "Where are we? Where's Feitan? Where's Meleoron?"

"We were blindfolded and when I came to, only you and me and Meleoron were here. Some ants came and said Meleoron's nen was important and hauled him off. They definitely wanted ants." Ikalgo shivers. He holds out a phone. “But I stole Feitan’s phone when they took yours.”

"Fuck." Machi is not impressed that she was right about Gyro's connection to the ants. Not now. She presses her ear against the cell door. "Did you see them take a particular direction?"

"No." Ikalgo looks ashamed.

"What is it?" Machi, ever astute, demands.

"I…closed my eyes." His eyes fill with tears. "So that I didn't have to see Gyro. Because I can't bear that the man I've served and dedicate my human life to – is our enemy."

Ikalgo shakes his head. "He saved my life. He encouraged me never to surrender. And now he's … a manipulative killer. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry. I'm a terrible friend."

Machi looks sad. "You're nothing of the sort. I understand."

"Truly?" Ikalgo is surprised. Most people don't even try to relate to an octopus-ant-human hybrid.

"Yeah. I think if Danchou ever did anything I disapproved of – really, truly disapproved – I would cover my eyes, too." Machi sighs. "Morality and immorality. They're complicated. Someone can be good to you and very, very evil to another."

Like Hisoka. He'd been both to the spiders.

Like Feitan. Her lover. A torturer.

Like her. Fierce and loving. She hopes a good mother to Kalluto. And still, she's a vicious mass murderer.

"Moral complexity." Ikalgo whines with relief. "I wish my friends could all be friends with each other."

"Don't we all. It's good to want that, I think." Machi offers him an understanding smile.

Though if her instinct on Hisoka's atypical reaction is correct, Gyro might have gone above and beyond moral complexity.

Machi shakes herself out of her thoughts. She's usually much more focused than this. Maybe it's the kid. Maybe it's ruining her brain.

Or maybe she's just accepting that she cares.

Machi glowers at the lock like it's her final enemy. She needs to open this door.

But once she does, once they escape, they'll have to move fast. To avoid detection.

And they have no idea what is outside. A labyrinth? A torture chamber? Bodies? Guards?

How can she move fast in two directions? To find her friends, and to notify Danchou of their position?

Can she entrust Feitan to himself? Can she allow Meleoron to suffer whatever Gyro has planned for his nen?

 _No_ , she thinks. She doesn't want to. But if she doesn't notify Danchou soon, if she razes this tunnel with only her and Ikalgo, their plan could fail.

Feitan would kick her for this.  _Of course you prioritize the Spider_!

But what is the Spider, if not people she loves?

_Chrollo's eyes sparkle in the dusty light. They struggle to hide the piles and piles of stolen fruit on the crumbling roof they've called their home._

_"_ _Good guess on the timing." Uvogin slaps Machi's shoulder._

 _"_ _You have the best instincts I've ever seen." Chrollo smiles at her._

_And twelve-year-old Machi nearly fell over, and not from the heavy bags. She just – she never thought anyone ever would compliment her._

"My instincts will guide us." Machi assures Ikalgo. "Trust me."

She's not sure she's only speaking to Ikalgo.

* * *

Many places control their children's behavior with dark tales of monsters. Meteor City is different. Meteor City tells stories of the mafia.

Canary never met them herself, but they permeated her orphanage, permeated all the caretakers who threatened them and fed them. She used to wet the bed with nightmares of horned mafia demons, earning more threats and beatings.

But Silva selected her and assured her that the mafia wouldn't bother her any more, because she worked for the Zoldycks, the nightmares stopped.

And now she is here, facing her childhood nightmares as an adult. Amane, a granddaughter of the city spared its cruelty, sits besides her, with Tsubone next to her.

And Milluki Zoldyck, possibly the Zoldyck child with the least charisma, is negotiating with the mafia. A lone chimera ant woman stands as their guard.

"My father is missing," snaps one of the mafia wives.

Raissa Valdrada, daughter of magistrate Valdrada and wife to the son of Meteor City's chief elder. A small woman with evergreen hair and a youthful demeanor that belies her age. An infamous kid who, if the rumors are true, were it not for her father's devotion, should have wound up in a whorehouse. A defier of fate. "Unless you can determine his precise location, I have more important business to attend than schmoozing with rebel queens."

"Schmoozing?"

"That's all politics is, right? You make me feel good, so I help you. But with kingdoms and countries." Raissa wrinkles her nose. "If you want me to help, you'll have to try harder than lies. Tell me why the Zoldycks would approach me and not my husband, an actual elder."

Milluki looks back at the butlers.

Tsubone nods with all the encouragement she can muster. She's trying to like Milluki more, rying to guide him, but it's difficult.

"Your father," he says at last.

Raissa waits.

"You blame the Spiders for your father's disappearance," Milluki alleges. Milluki prays Alluka's assessment – that Raissa's love for her father is their key to manipulating the elders – is correct.

"Isn't it obvious?" Raissa settles back. "Vengeance. I just – I just want a ransom note. I'll pay anything they want; if you're working for them, tell them that."

"I can attest otherwise." Palm steps forward, holding her right hand over her eye. "I'm a clairvoyant, see."

"Where is he?" Raissa leaps to her feet, animated once more.

Palm winces. "Your father is in the harbor. Murdered by the man you support: Gyro."

"You're lying," Raissa growls, tugging on her green locks like a child trying to calm herself. "Liar. Liar!"

"I'm not." Palm holds out her hands.

"He was Gyro's ally!"

"No; he was an ally of Meteor City," says Tsubone. "Gyro is no longer."

Palm speaks quickly. She doesn't like divulging details, but what choice do they have? "I am a Chimera Ant. I can see the kidnappings Gyro has collaborated on. I can see the manipulation he uses right now, on another member of the Spiders he's caught in his own Web. If you care about loyalty to your city, you will arrange your elders to meet with the queens and summon Gyro before the council."

Raissa hates herself for weeping. "I'm not powerful enough."

"Guess again," Canary calls, speaking, speaking to her nightmares. 

Palm grabs the woman's hands and peers deep into her eyes. "Oh yes, you are."

* * *

Machi races down the hall, Ikalgo on her heels, towards the sound. The sound.

The sound of dripping. Dripping water decides for her. Machi stops before a wide staircase, stops before a puddle of foul water dripping from a corroded pipe in the ceiling to this labyrinth.

Meteor City has no running water. Not unless they're below a mafia house. Machi frowns.

Perhaps the surface of this city…this forsaken city, is just an illusion. Perhaps here there was once technology and riches. Perhaps there can be again.

Subconsciously, her fingertips touch her belly.

"We're below the city…" Machi muses. Time to text Danchou and the others. Time to let her instincts take over.

* * *

"You fucking – you knew this piece of shit was here?" Leorio scowls at Cheadle as he dutifully blocks the towel-for-a-window so that Ging cannot escape.

"It's easier to yell at me than Ging, I see. How unlike you, Leorio." Cheadle looks disappointed as she remains by the door.

"Eh…maybe my friends are rubbing off on me." Leorio rubs the back of his neck and laughs sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Cheadle has no time to dawdle on youthful insecurities. She never has.

"Are you done?" Ging asks with annoyance.

"Have you even begun?" Cheadle tosses back.

"I don't have time for vexing philosophy," Ging replies.

"Nor your son, right?" Leorio growls. "He's here, you know. Risking his life for his friends. Actually, do you even know how many times he's nearly died? Do I need to remind you that his name is Gon?"

"Yet he hasn't died," Ging says simply.

"And if he does, what, you'll cry by his grave?" Leorio shakes.

"Graves are pointless." Ging shifts uncomfortably.

Leorio throws his hands in the air. "Cheadle, can I punch him?!"

"Not right now. Later," Cheadle promises.

"Okay," Leorio mumbles, like a sullen child.

"Ging, where is Pariston." Cheadle bites off every word.

"He was right under your nose."

"I'm not talking about the Black Whale." Cheadle taps her fingers on her crossed arms. "I'm talking about now."

"If you're so smart, figure it out yourself." Ging hates Leorio's presence. It's hard enough to talk to Cheadle. Two people at once is torture.

"I could say you're on orders from the Hunter Organization, which you are," Cheadle begins, "but you've never been keen on orders."

Ging shrugs.

"What you have been keen on," Cheadle continues, eyes glowing, "is your own adventure. "Well, here's one for you: the Zoldyck family, the Chimera Ants, the Queens of Kakin, and your son all collected. In a bomb ready to explode called the Hall of Elders. I mean 'explode' metaphorically."

"I know it's a metaphor," Ging snaps.

"You like chasing things, but not answers. That's why you avoid your son," Cheadle sings. "Because you shun certainty for possibility."

Her voice darkens. "That's the key difference between you and Pariston, isn't it?"

"Pariston wants to be the one to hold the puppet strings while the world collapses into chaos. An odd form of control," Ging admits. "He's thriving here, unchecked, among Meteor City."

"Like you?" Leorio tosses.

Ging hands him a dark look. "No. I don't thrive in chaos. I thrive in freedom."

Chaos, now, that was Gon's mother. Ging rarely thinks of her. It's better this way.

"What does Pariston want with the ants?" Leorio demands.

"You're a doctor. Think."

Leorio glances at Cheadle. "E – experiments?"  
"Human experiments. The idealism to Gyro's nihilism. Both wish to end humanity. Gyro, in massacre. Pariston, by a superior race."

"What selfish bastards –"

"Are they, Leorio?" Cheadle tilts her head. "Do either of them wish to live? Do either of them do this for themselves? It might be easier if they did."

Ging smirks.

"Whatever." Leorio's head hurts. "Ging, you're coming with us. You're helping stop them."

"Why should I? Cheadle's right. I shun duty."

"It'll be fun?" Leorio scratches his head. He speaks as though he just swallowed a lemon.

Ging points at Leorio. "Now you're catching on."

"Good. Now come with us." Cheadle turns towards the dilapidated door. "Oh, I forgot. Leorio. You can punch him now."

* * *

Captain Baha and Gittanracker mill about the Hall of Elders, which has begun filling with a variety of self-important people. Luckily, both have laid enough distractions for a disguised Chrollo and Kurapika sneak away as per Machi's suggestions.

"I've been here before," Chrollo says as they enter the private Elder chambers, where the elders allegedly decide on laws and rulings – code for drinking and choosing nothing. The faded mossy carpet is even more grotesque than he remembers, the stench of mold stronger. But there's also the nine ornately carved chairs and the frozen Grandfather clock against the wall, exactly as he recalls.

He smiles wistfully. "We snuck in as a teenagers…Uvogin and Feitan and I. Uvo convinced us that they would have good liquor here. He was determined to teach us how to increase our alcohol tolerance."

Kurapika focuses on the temporary chain ring he's conjured for Chrollo. If he had been a teenager with Pairo, he may have done the same.

So he focuses on the ring, the symbol the Chrollo has forgiven him, and that he has forgiven Chrollo. "Was it worth it?"

"No. I felt something enchanting, sitting in the First Elder's chair, sipping what tasted like liquid fire, and I was just beginning to relax. And then Feitan vomited on the floor and we  _ran_." Chrollo grins despite the situation, and Kurapika has to laugh.

"Pakunoda and Franklin nearly whipped us for that…" Chrollo trails off as Kurapika's dowsing chain sways.

Kurapika. His intended.

Despite the tension, despite their predicament, his heart is warm.

"Here." Kurapika leans forward and grabs a pen off one of the chairs. He clicks the pen, and to Chrollo's intrigue, the wall begins to open.

"I didn't know Meteor City had such technology," Chrollo says coldly.

"I'm not surprised. Mafia." Kurapika can nearly hear the names of those Chrollo has watched die from poverty. All while potentially life-changing technology was hidden from them.

Chrollo extends a hand to Kurapika.

As Kurapika takes his fingers in his, he feels their rings brush each other. A thrill shouts through his body.

They step into a staircase, a wide, wide staircase that glows with greenish light. Lines, queer, delicate green lines, almost like spider webs, run through black stone, giving off the light.

"It's beautiful," Kurapika says, puzzled, as they move slowly down the stairs. His dousing chain indicates they're close.

"Much better than my condemned accommodations were," Chrollo says wryly.

Kurapika's eyes soften. "I still wish I could have rescued you."

"Hmm, that would make a second rescue if we count Morena's gas. It's a bit unfair, don't you think I ought to have the chance to rescue you?" Chrollo's eyes crinkle.

"You did…with the Zoldycks. With the trial." Kurapika clasps his hands. "I don't like accepting grace I haven't earned."

"You can't earn. Isn't that what you told me once? Atonement is impossible." Chrollo sighs.

Towards the bottom of the stairwell, a dripping, rusted pipe runs along the ceiling, blocking the greenish glow.

Kurapika stops.

"Took you long enough." Machi rolls off the pipe, Ikalgo in her arms.

Chrollo grabs her shoulder. "You're okay?"

Machi nods. She has half a mind to deck him for babying her. But also. It's kind of sweet that Danchou cares so much.

"I'm certainly angry enough for two." She shrugs.

"And Feitan was frightened enough," Ikalgo says seriously.

"Feitan didn't know you were planning on getting captured?" Kurapika asks.

Machi dips her head to hide the fact that her cheeks now match her hair. "I didn't want to worry him. And now I haven't found him."

"We will." Chrollo turns to Kurapika. "Can we…can we find Feitan before the Ants?"

"What of Meleoron? They wanted to use him," hisses Ikalgo.

"We'll see which is closer," Kurapika says firmly. He lifts his chain again.

Machi narrows her eyes. "Danchou, why the hell are you two wearing matching rings?"

* * *

"Do you think this will work?" Milluki asks feebly as they enter the Hall, a lengthy, sprawling structure with crumbling pillars outside and stale air inside. It may once have been fancy, but it has long since passed even the days where it would be a valuable relic.

The butlers have been sent to assist Raissa gather the rest of the mafia, while Milluki and Palm support Hisoka and Illumi.

"I find it better not to ask," Palm says slowly. "Just to act, until you're certain it will."

"Have you ever had to?" Milluki asks, shuffling further the stifling building, which is crowded. "Just rely on actions, rather than calculations?"

He likes calculations. Calculations, and technology – they're safe.

"Haven't you heard of NGL?" Palm focuses on her hands. She stops just over the threshold.

"The Ants, yes, obviously. How well did that work for you?" Milluki doesn't speak with disdain. Just curiosity.

"Not well, for any of us. But in the end, we succeeded. We traded in a massive slaughter of humans for a minor slaughter of ants, as if numbers were the only hope we had to gauge success." Palm looks at the ground. She still cries for Komugi at times. Somehow, she thinks they would have been friends. "And I was critical to that success – the only thing I ever wanted."

Palm tosses her hair and forces levity into her tone. She does not want to think further on this. "Though at the time, I believed I wanted the love of my teacher."

"Oh." Milluki reddens.

"Knov," Palm says.

"Isn't he old?"

"He looks older than he is! NGL was traumatizing." Palm shakes her finger in Milluki's face. "Ha, it turns out I didn't need him after all. I just needed to believe I mattered."

Milluki sighs. "I know how that goes."

"Oh?"

"My family doesn't much like me. Too fat. To agoraphobic. Too ugly." Milluki sighs. "This is – this is the first time I haven't felt like my siblings disapprove of me. My parents, I think I've always disappointed them."

He cackles. "I'm almost enjoying being here. Because of that. How sick am I?"

"I think you're very…not human – personal. You don't even have to be human to be a person, I suppose I've learned that, too." Palm laughs a little. "I think you're special the way you are, Milluki Zoldyck, and I'm happy to be working with you."

"Really? Even though you kicked my ass?" Milluki feels flutters in his stomach when he looks at her. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Everyone, sooner or later, whether powerful or weak, will have their ass handed to them. I'm certain of it." Palm snorts, and Milluki can't help but laugh with her.

They round the corner, just outside the assembly hall, only to bump into a suited man with preposterous white eyebrows.

Milluki isn't sure the reason, but the next thing he knows, Palm and the man both scream.

* * *

"I small enough for you?" Feitan snaps around his gag, struggling against his restraints. He's been stripped of his shirt, chained and shackled three times over.

How many times has he done this very thing?

The waiting. It's a mind game. A game he always won before.

 _Begin the torture already_. He deserves it. But he also knows the rumors on Gyro's tendencies, and he's not about to be broken by a man who rapes children. Paku hated him.

"No." Gyro begins to roughly examine Feitan's bare chest. "You're quite strong for someone so small."

"You only prey on weak?" Feitan wants to scream for Machi's location, but he can't. He can't let this man know –

Feitan, he always found out. He always found the name of the person dearest to his victim, always twisted their pretty names into threats.

He will not give Gyro Machi.

Gyro's grubby hands land on the discolored spot on Feitan's shoulder, right below his neck.

It's shaped like a rose. Machi likes to kiss it.

Feitan truly has no idea what is happening. Is he about to be skinned?

 _Pretend you're somewhere else_. That's the key. Not to care about your body, or yourself. Just your secrets. Just the people you love.

_Is this family?_

Gyro curses. "Damn Illuna. I'm guessing you're around twenty-six?"

"I don't know." Feitan just wants this gross man's hands  _off_. And who the fuck is Illuna?

Gyro chuckles, but he releases Feitan from his touch. "I was always small for my age, too."

Feitan stares at him. "You can make sense any time you want."

Gyro yanks down his shirt.

"Oh fuck no," Feitan mutters, pressing himself back against the cold wall.

He's not going to scream.  _For Machi. Don't hurt Machi_.

But instead of disrobing, Gyro reveals a dark, rose-shaped spot at the base of his own neck. "My father had this, too."

Feitan gawks at him. His heart chills.  _No_.

No. He is not – this man has Machi. This man killed Danchou. This man hurt Pakunoda. Feitan  _hates_  him.

"Frightened?" Gyro asks smoothly. "You could kill me, but that wouldn't make it less true."

"I not scared." He is, though.

_What is family?_

Not Gyro.

_What is family?_

Feitan has never wanted to think about his mother or father. They were likely addicts who died shortly after they left him on an orphanage door. Well, most likely his father wasn't even with his mother for long. Perhaps she was a prostitute. Perhaps she was a kid, too.  _He doesn't like to think about it_ , okay?

"I just received word. Indeed, it seems my dalliances with that girl produced something of value."

Feitan wants to vomit.

_What is family?_

Gyro strokes Feitan's face. A father to a son. "I'm honestly surprised she didn't stab her own stomach when she conceived."

 _My_ … Feitan struggles against his chains. He wants to be absorbed into the wall.  _My mothe_ r…

She was victimized by this man. Feitan is a byproduct of something heinous. He should not exist.

"Are you evil too?" Gyro murmurs.

"You know it." Feitan closes his eyes, willing him to go away, go away, die and never have existed.

His mind wells up with unbidden answers.

_This is why I torture kids._

_This is why I skinned a child._

_This is why I mock them as they die._

_Because I should not exist._

"Open your eyes, or I'll gouge them out like I've heard you've done." Gyro has heard of many things evil, but surely killing a son is worse than a father.

Feitan forces his eyes open, though he avoids Gyro's gaze. The world whirls before him.

"I should kill a dangerous man such as yourself, but this is fun, no? I'm selfish." Gyro laughs at the wet sheen appearing on Feitan's eyes. This will be marvelous.

Feitan is selfish too. He wants to stay with Machi and Kalluto. He wants to be a better father than Kalluto has ever had. He wants to kiss his baby, a baby that should exist, a baby created with violent passion between both him and Machi.

"You're just like me, aren't you?"

_What is family?_

"I don't know," Feitan answers himself aloud, answers himself and not his father, as the troupe's face float before him, Machi and Kalluto at the forefront. "But it's not you, Gyro."


	44. Save Me

**Chapter Forty-Four**

**Save Me**

**_Oh hey. Believe it or not, while I have yet to work out the exact number of remaining chapters, we won't get past Ch. 50. Well, there will be four epilogues. But the conflict/arc will be done by 50._ **

**_As previously stated, continued content warning for discussion of childhood sex abuse. And now suicidal thoughts._ **

 

"Who the hell are you?" Dull eyes flicker with surprise as Illuna regards the five children crowding her stuffy room. Kids aren't usually allowed above the basement here.

She sways as she presses her palms to his hips, like a disapproving parent. The liquor bottle gets in her way, and she loses her balance. "Fuck!"

"We're friends of Hisoka," the green-haired boy declares.

Gon finds himself stunned by this woman's resemblance to her son. Though her makeup is smeared under her eyes, and lines of misery crease her cheeks, she is undeniably Hisoka's mother.

The largest difference is her expression, which lacks Hisoka's mirth; she has fallen into despair.

"Is that so. And friends of the Zoldycks, too, I presume?" Illuna clucks her tongue. Are these children going to assassinate her? Put her down like a dog?

"They're our parents, except for Gon." Kalluto points to his siblings.

"Aw, man. Don't tell me Kikyo's kids care about her after all." Illuna clenches her teeth even as she forces a grin. Of course. The white-haired brat looks like Silva, and the black-haired trio like Kikyo. Though one of the girls has eyes and a mouth more void than flesh.

"Were you just talking to Gyro?" Gon crosses his arms.

"Mind your own business." Illuna hates herself for sounding like a child. For repeating the words the mafia told her, but she taught Hisoka to ignore.

"Well, Hisoka is our friend, so he is our business," Gon retorts.

"Assassins don't have friends." Illuna rolls her eyes.

"We're not assassins anymore," Killua fumes.

Illuna gasps with glee, with relief. "So Kikyo did ruin her family!"

"Why don't you focus on your own?" Kalluto shoots back.

"You let your lover hurt Hisoka," Killua says, a waver in his voice. "For money."

"Money?!" Illuna leaps forward to catch Killua by his wrists. Her long, chipped faux nails dig into him, leaving scarlet polish and blood along his flesh. "You know nothing of Meteor City if you think anyone here is enamored with money. We're enamored with our lives. If keeping a man's interest in a woman raised to whore herself allowed her to provide food and shelter for herself and her bastard, why would she refuse?!"

"Because he  _hurt_  Hisoka. I can tell," says Alluka. "Hisoka can't forget."

"If you know my son, you know he's a liar, just like me. I taught Hisoka lies from a young age." Illuna laughs. Gyro was only interested in girls, anyhow.

Young girls, and now she was too old, but girls. When she was young, she'd been enough.

"You're wrong," says Gon. "Hisoka is a liar, but he's also a friend, underneath the makeup and murders."

"Don't you care about your own child?" Killua demands.

"What right do you have to assume parents should care about their children? Perhaps that was just Kikyo's indoctrination," Illuna mocks.

Nanika sucks in her breath. Kalluto hangs his head.

Killua pauses. Tears fill his eyes. He's surrounded by – by Kalluto, only valued as another useful, easily manipulated child. By Alluka, imprisoned as soon as she lost control. By Nanika, whose village banished her just for questions.

And by Gon. His best friend, his most valued person, whose father still couldn't visit him on his deathbed.

What right, indeed?

Because – because he wants them to. Because they're all hurting, because no one loved them well enough.

Killua stammers. "You – you're adults."

"And still heartbroken over it." Illuna toasts him before gulping down the rest of her liquor.

"Adults should care about their kids. Adults have reasoning and wisdom that kids shouldn't. Adults cause hurting kids by teaching kids to hurt." Killua shakes his head. "It's your fault. You may not have hurt your son, but you didn't save him, and you can't even draw the courage to face your errors!"

"Are you talking about me now? Or Kikyo?" Illuna's gaze smolders. Behind that laughing façade, she is livid.

Hisoka was not hurt.

Hisoka was fine. He left because he was selfish. Nothing more.

"I'm talking abut both of you. And my dad. And Gon's dad and Nanika's village. All of you. Every last one. Fuck you. Fuck all of you who hurt kids." Killua shivers.

Illuna steps forward. She draws a knife from her robe. "I've never –"

"You're not the sort of woman to allow this? You are. You already have," Killua whispers, practically foaming at the mouth.

"Put the knife down! My friends are the best child assassins around!" Gon steps in front of them all.

"There are kids right below us, and you've allowed it!" Alluka cries, yanking Gon back. "You  _have_!"

Illuna sputters. "No, I –"

"You called Gyro just now, hoping he'd let you love him again," Kalluto accuses. "Because you want someone to save you. Well, your son wanted someone to save him, and you could have, but you didn't."

He wanted people to save him, too. Machi and Feitan had.

"Nanika," Gon says. Confronting Illuna was hopeless. They were going to lose control.

"I'm ready." Nanika's aura begins to glow from every node on her body. Alluka shimmers next. Killua's aura spills open, and Kalluto's.

Pinpricks spread across Gon's. To his own amazement, new aura nodes split across his arms and entire body to emit radiant golden light. "What?"

 _Me_?

Is his nen back?

No. This is new. The nodes are different. But they exist. So that he can help the kids they came to rescue. Power surges through Gon. If Nanika can save children, he'll enhance her nen with everything he has.

"Good bye," Nanika says formally to Illuna.

In that moment, every enslaved child in Meteor City, from the farthest away to the ones in the cellar of the brothel, found themselves sucked into a nen warp.

* * *

A golden, familiar glow envelops the city, stealing Kikyo's breath.

"That nen," Kikyo says urgently.

Silva turns back to the brothel, which looms in the distance. Something niggles in the back of his mind – but he can't quite place it.

"It's Alluka's." Kikyo sets her jaw.

"Are you sure?"

"I recognize it," Kikyo insists.

Silva smiles faintly. Of course Kikyo would recognize her children. She's the perfect mother, despite her shortcomings.

Kikyo claps her hands over her mouth to muffle a shriek. Were they – were her children there? Why? Not even Alluka deserves this fate!

She prepares to run, but a broad-shoulders man with silver hair jumps into their path. He casually holds an enormous pipe over his shoulder, and wears an unsuitable smile on his face. "Pardon me, but you're not allowed to interfere in our mission."

"If you're worried, your kids are tough," adds a curly-haired man eagerly, emerging from an alley to further block the street. A scrawny, bespectacled man and a one-armed man dressed in a purple robe accompany him.

Behind the Zoldycks, a man wrapped in bandages, a hulking man with extended earlobes, and another purple-robed man with a ponytail – albeit with darker hair – leap down from the mountains of trash. Surrounding the Zoldycks.

Silva curses. His wife is in no shape to fight, and he completely overlooked his surroundings, for the first time since he was a boy. That bitch – Illuna – it's her fault for upsetting them.

Or is it his fault? He'd punish the kids if they made such a mistake, no matter the reason. Silva pushes the thought from his mind.

"Who are you?" Kikyo shrieks.

"The Spiders." Silva eyes Bonolenov, Nobunaga, and Franklin.

"And the survivors of NGL's Ant mission. Well, some of them." Morel Mackernasey slaps his pipe. "We'd rather not fight you, but if we do, you're guaranteed a long duel."

"Don't get in the way of my kids!" Kikyo hisses.

"We're not. Rather, we're preventing  _you_  from getting in the way of your kids," Franklin explains.

Nobunaga sniffs. "They're great kids, by the way."

"Though how anyone could hurt little Alluka and Nanika befuddles me," says Morel, glaring at Silva.

"Nanika slaughtered many," Silva says tersely.

"And yet, who caused Nanika?" Shoot looks sad as he touches his stump of a shoulder.

Nobunaga eyes the man who looks so much like him. Minus the arm, yet still powerful.

He admires these hunters. People who are undeniably strong, yet care for more than their own. Perhaps – perhaps these are the people the Troupe should look to become.

Silva responds darkly. "No one –"

"Stop lying," Nobunaga says.

"We know the truth. Beyond Netero told us," Shoot informs them.

Silva turns white as a corpse.

"We will not let you pass. It's your choice whether you wish to follow us, but we've planned too much to accept interference," Knov says calmly.

* * *

"Would that Melody were here," Chrollo says, watching Kurapika's dowsing chain sway forward, in the direct of both Meleoron and Feitan. Apparently.

Kurapika's heart warms that Chrollo values his hunter friends, too. He knows, intellectually, that Chrollo does. But hearing his compliments towards someone as precious as Melody triggers waves of gratitude for Kurapika.

"Nonetheless." Machi strains into the dim green darkness. She's those are footsteps, far back in the inky blackness. "Someone's coming."

Chrollo whips out Fun Fun Cloth and shrinks them all to the size of normal ants. They look like nothing more a crinkled, discarded handkerchief.

"Make sure he stays there. Not a kind word!" Gyro stalks by. A young companion, a female in a yellow dress, has to run alongside to keep up. She whimpers in agreement.

"I know her!" Ikalgo slaps Chrollo with his tentacles.

"Is she trustworthy?" Kurapika whispers.

"Not unless we give her the chance to be, I suppose," Chrollo muses.

Kurapika hold his hand out to calm Machi as Gyro slowly climbs the wide stairs. The girl stands at the base, watching him, shaking.

"Hina," Ikalgo says quietly.

"I have more self-control than you did," Machi hisses, glaring at Kurapika.

"I know. I just thought you might need a hand. Waiting is hard," Kurapika replies, and Machi softens.

"Apology accepted, Chain Bastard." She offers him a half-smile.

Chrollo bites the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling too much. He loves seeing Machi and Kurapika value each other.

"Now." Gyro has vanished beyond the stairs, and the girl – Hina – makes no effort to move.

Chrollo lifts the cloth, and the world roars back to full-size around them.

Ikalgo propels himself forward to slap his tentacles around the Hina's mouth. "This may not look like it, but it is a rescue."

Hina blinks. She remembers his face, or not even really. Only his orange octopus form. Definitely not a name. "You – uh – "

"Ikalgo," he says proudly. "And you're Hina."

"Uh-huh." She looks from Chrollo to Kurapika to Machi.

Kurapika's heart hurts. She doesn't recognize Chrollo, meaning she's likely not been outside recently. And she's young – young enough to explain why an ant has been serving Gyro instead of taken to the experiments.

All she recognizes is fear, and despair. She came to Meteor City to find her beloved leader, and she found him, and he used her and imprisoned her and hurt her friends.

The sme despair Kurapika felt when he killed Uvogin, the despair in Gon's eyes when he mentions Ging.

The despair of a child who found what they were looking for.

"Hey." Unfazed, Chrollo places his hands on her shoulders and looks into her sorrowful eyes. "We're going to get you out of here, and everyone we can. We promise."

"I'm an ant," she recites, rocking back and forth.

Ikalgo looks sick – this is not the Hina he remembers. "Good, because we're rescuing all the ants."

In response, Hina throws her arms around Chrollo and begins to sob.

Chrollo gingerly pats her back, shooting Kurapika a nervous glance.

"Hina, did you see a small, black-haired friend of ours?" Machi's instincts already know the answer.

"He's back there." Hina turns her tear-streaked face to the pink-haired woman's. She raises her finger to point, however shakily. "Are you Machi?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Machi inhales deeply.

"Let's rescue him." That makes their first decision easy. Chrollo lifts Hina into his arms, and turns to follow Machi down the hall.

"What if he comes back and traps us all again?" Hina cries.

"We'll still rescue you," Kurapika vows. "Machi, take the lead. Ikalgo and I will walk behind Chrollo and Hina. Just to protect her."

She offers him a watery smile, and he smiles in return.

"Why was Feitan separated?" Kurapika asks as they stop before a double door fastened with chains. Orbed heads are carved into the doorknobs, and he has the funny sensation he's seen these before.

"Mr. Hill takes most of the people and ants, but Gyro gets a few to play with if he asks nicely." Hina sniffles.

"Hill?" Kurapika sucks in his breath.

A muscle twitches in Machi's jaw. "These chains."

"Here's the key." Hina fishes around her neck for the chain.

But Machi has already kicked the door in.

* * *

"You!" Bizeff rears back into the crowd, but her fat companions hand latches onto his wrist, so that he can't lose himself milling amongst the filthy hordes.

Her hair is darker and an orb adorns her forehead, but there's no mistake – this is Sinker Belle. Bizeff hacks for air.

Palm loses touch with her limbs. She can't move. Hate pours from her lips. "You – you  _survived_."

How, when Komugi and Mereum died, when Chairman Netero blew himself up in a poisonous rose – how did this worm escape?

"You know him?" Milluki frowns. There's something unsettling about this man; he doesn't look like someone from Meteor City. He's too slick. Too prissy. Too cowardly, as he hunches his shoulders, and sweat beads his ample brows.

"I should have guessed," Palm says flatly. "Cockroaches always survive." She turns to Milluki. "The Secretary of State of NGL. Gyro, and later the ant's, right-hand man. A war criminal. A monster in human form, if there ever was one."

"With what right do you –"

"All you ever wanted was to live in luxury as millions were slaughtered," Palm says.

"You were a spy."

"I thought the name Sinker Belle was fairly obvious, but there's no accounting for stupidity when you think with your cock." Palm crosses her arms.

" _Sinker_  Belle? That's marvelous." Milluki's eyes light up.

"Planning another coup?" Bizeff sputters. "I'll – I'll tell them all! You can't very well murder me here, anyhow!"

Milluki's eyes harden. This idiot could somehow ruin their plans. Just like Father always warned them:  _there's only one thing more dangerous than a smart target, and that's a dumb one._

Behind them, Tsubone, Canary, and Amane sweep inside before Raissa Valdrada. The council will begin soon.

They don't have time for this politician's stupidity. Milluki's mind whirs.

Morel and Knov, Knuckle and Shoot squeeze into the crowd. Morel's eyes widen at the sight of Bizefff.

Nobunaga, Franklin, and Bonolenov file inside, two figures between them – a waifish woman and a towering man.

Mother and Father. About to watch him fail again. Milluki's face heats.

Knov knows, everyone does, Palm thinks. But he's never mentioned it to her. No one of her friends has treated her differently yet.

But these Spiders – these servants – the proper, if bratty, son beside her – they might think of her in the manner of the Hunter Association. A crazy sap who lost her humanity alongside, well, her virginity.

Cheadle and Leorio stumble closer, dragging Ging Freecs – of the onlookers, the one person neither Palm nor Milluki hold in any regard.

But Cheadle's eyes warm at the sight of Palm, and for now, another woman's support is enough for her.

Palm laughs right in Bizeff's ugly face.

"You know I'm right." Bizeff puffs his cheeks. He draws himself up. "I can ruin you and your plans, so don't go thinking about revenge."

"Too late," says Milluki.

 _Sass isn't strength_. Father glared down at the chubby six-year-old crying on the floor.

"Okay, fatty." Bizeff cocks an eyebrow at this pig's immediate defense.

Milluki stutters.

 _Just let him eat himself to death. He's pathetic_ , Father said, shaking his head in disgust at the twelve-year-old who only felt happy when he ate something sweet.

Milluki's face reddens. He doesn't – he doesn't want to – fail, not now, not in front of his new friends, not in front of his parents – not in front of Palm. But he doesn't know what to do.

That's why he prefers computers. A screen gives him time to think, to plan.

"Don't you know, glutton?" Bizeff laughs. "She seduced me to infiltrate the palace. Like an inexperienced harlot."

Palm raises her fist to punch him straight through the Hall of Elders, but Milluki grabs it first.

Strength was never really his thing.

"Is that supposed to bother me?" Milluki laughs, and suddenly words spurned by fury pour out. "I was fifteen when my parents decreed I offer myself up to be raped for a job. I don't give a fuck what Palm did. It's  _your_  fault, you monster. Palm is brilliant and kind, and she knows what everyone else needs to learn: strength doesn't matter in the end."

His voice breaks. It's all he's ever wanted to hear.

Palm goggles at him. She wraps her hand around his stubby fingers.

"I'm glad you all like Palm," says Canary, breaking into the silence, "but I personally am done with men like this."

She sends her staff straight into Bizeff's crotch.

"There are six Zoldyck children work with us," Morel adds sweetly, coming over to drape an arm around the man. "Don't say a word or your precious survival skills may come to an unfortunate end."

Shoot and Nobunaga turn around to grab the Zoldyck parents, to force them to the second floor overlooking the hall, far away from their children.

The rest of their group gathers around them. Gittanracker and Captain Baha motion them into the hall.

They're his friends. They've been reminded how worthless Milluki is, and they still supported him. He wants to live in this moment forever.

"Let's go into the hall." Palm suggests softly, tugging on his hand. Her eyes wash him with compassion.

Milluki nods. For the first time in his life, he feels – worthwhile.

"Make way!" calls a voice familiar to anyone who watched Chrollo's execution. But this time, instead of a magistrate eager to condemn Chrollo to death, the elders of Meteor City march into the building, their wives and mistresses and husbands by their side.

Behind them, the Eight queens of Kakin, with select princes, follow. Oito's eyes meet Palm's, and she winks as Phinks leads the rest of their crew to stand besides Milluki, Palm, and the others.

As the hall fills with people, no one notices a willowy, redheaded woman slip inside.

* * *

Feitan fixates on a sharp crack in the floor. He yearns to throw himself upon it, to burst the blood in his veins, to release the world from the presence of someone as evil as him.

Why does this hurt so much?

He's always been this person, whether he knew it or not.

No, it hurts because  _family_  has always been a mystery of endless possibilities. He could torture and kill because they weren't family. He could strike up a killing contest with Phinks, wiping out family after family, and never bat an eye.

The crippled Kurta kid. Chrollo mentioned him once, and Feitan knew immediately. Feitan remembers skinning Kurapika's best friend.

And he never knew why.

But now he knows why.

He knows that he is exactly the sort of person who should butcher children. The son of a dictator who raped his mother when she was too young to defend herself.

If he lives, he hurt his kid? He hurt Machi? No, Machi can defend herself, but –

It hurts because Feitan's always known he was evil, but now he feels as though he never had a chance to be good.

He feels damned.

The door crashes open, and Feitan forces himself to look stoic, be stoic, feel nothing –

Feitan barely registers Danchou and Machi. His gaze is helpless, surrendering any pretense of strength or defiance. He is broken, and no physical torture was even necessary on the Troupe's infamous torturer.

 _What sort of family torture their kid_? He had once yelled when Kalluto expected pain. In hypocritical indignation.

_My family._

"Fei." Machi, for once, is dumbfounded.

"Don't free me." He deserves the chains stringing him along the wall.

"Feitan," Kurapika says, stepping forward with alarm.

Maybe the Chain Bastard will kill him.

"The baby is okay, I think," Machi says tentatively.

"It won't be." Feitan shivers violently. "Keep me away from it."

"What are you talking about?" Ikalgo's face scrunches.

"He's his dad. Gyro," Hina says from Chrollo's arms. "He told him."

The shock that crosses Machi's face sends pain springing down Feitan's limbs. Though he can only look at the floor, tears begin to roll down his cheeks, tears of shame and fear.

"I sorry," he tells Kurapika. "I sorry. I hurt kids. I kill Pairo."

Kurapika starts. His heart sinks. Chrollo meets his eyes, confirming.

"I am the son of a monster. I hopeless." Feitan hates himself, because he wants Machi, he wants his child, he wants to stay with them forever and ever. And he doesn't deserve it.

"Fei." Machi steps forward and kneels before him. She reaches up to wipe his tears, one by one, with those velvet hands that have always entranced him. "I bet you're not the only one who is the son of a rapist. You are not doomed to repeat your father's mistakes. You're a great Father to Kalluto already, and you  _know_  that."

She removes his shackles, one wrist at a time. Finally, the gag, so he can speak clearly. "Fei, I want to raise our child together.  _I am not afraid of you_."

"Neither am I."

Feitan is startled to see Kurapika behind Machi, holding forth the eyes with the specks, the eyes Danchou had given the Chain Bastard at the start of this crazed adventure.

"P – Pairo and I, we would always complain. About how unfair it was that we were judged by who our tribe was. You should not be judged for your parents, no more than Killua and the Zoldycks, or Hisoka, or anyone else." Kurapika squeaks.

"And if you were a monster, you wouldn't remember killing Pairo." Kurapika begins to weep himself. "I  _forgive_  you. And Pairo, if he was as I knew him, would want the same."

"Feitan." Chrollo says nothing more.

_"_ _What's your name?" A smirking kid with ash smudged on his forehead blocks Feitan's path, clutching a book like it was food._

_"_ _Feitan." He glared. "Get out of my way or I go through you."_

_"_ _I'm Chrollo. Chrollo Lucilfer."_

_"_ _That dumb."_

_"_ _Well, I'm going to call you Feitan Portor. The name of a magical gate in this fairy tale." He waves the book. "Portor."_

_"_ _No you not!"_

_"_ _Then be my friend and make me change it." The kid darted off, Feitan on his heels, yelling obscenities in the inverted language that consistently earned him beatings before he escaped the orphanage._

"We're your family," Machi begs.

He throws his arms around her, squeezing her so tightly she gasps.

He's damned, but – but – he still has to pray to Machi.

"Save me."


	45. Let There Be Light

**Chapter Forty-Five**

**Let There Be Light**

**Apologies for a long wait. I would have had this up yesterday, but my edits were rudely interrupted by the invasion of two giant flies…that decided my writing nook was a nice vacation spot.**

**Continued content warning for discussions of sexual abuse of children. This chapter is the most candid, I think.**

Meteor City has always had twelve elders. Every time an elder toasts with poison in his stale wine, is found stiff with his pants down in a brothel, or wheezes his way into the afterlife with half-dissolved lungs, another replaces him. He inherits worn, moth-eaten robes and an even deader face, and the right to feed his family and preside at a limestone table that resembles a drawing of Jesus at the Last Supper.

Though there should have been thirteen seats, not twelve, for the correct analogy. That always bothered Danchou, Phinks remembers.

The eight queens of Kakin, including Oito, stand before limestone table, accompanied by several of the princes. Phinks can't recall all their names, to be honest.

But then Oito turns her head to smile at him, as Woble squirms in her arms, and nothing else matters.

Phinks is amongst the rabble of onlookers, behind a barnacled railing that was perhaps dragged out of the ocean a hundred years ago.

Nobunaga, Franklin, Bonolenov, and the Hunters squeeze beside him.

At least two parties have returned now. Milluki and Palm's mafia mission, the Kakins, and now Franklin's 'Parental Patrol,' as Hisoka dubbed them.

Danchou and the brat are downstairs, rescuing the ants, and the kids should be here soon, too. As for Leorio and Cheadle, Phinks has no idea.

With the ants and the kids, there should be enough evidence without the Zodiacs.

"The Zoldyck parents will stay in the balconies for now," Nobunaga assures the rest of the Spiders.

"Good," says Gittanracker, stiff even for his disguise.

"We're sorry," says Knuckle, running a hand through his thick curls. "Bringing them here was the only way to cooperate without bloodshed."

"No. You did the right thing. We can't hurt Kalluto and Illumi's parents," Shizuku asserts, slipping her hand in Melody's.

Nobunaga eyes them, but his question is cut off by the chief elder.

"Ah yes, the man – or shall I say  _ant_  – of the hour has finally joined us."

Gyro pushes open the door to the back room. Clad in his oversized coat once again, with more golden-grey stubble on his chin. He crosses his arms even as he walks around the limestone table, positioning himself between the Kakin Queens and the Elders of Meteor City. "I've been summoned."

Hisoka – or Captain Baha – flushes at the sight of the man. Melody gulps as his heartbeat thunders, and Gittanracker steps closer to his husband.

"Yes, we've been negotiating a generous trade deal, you see," says the Chief Elder. In any other potion of the world, he would far too young to reasonably call himself an elder. But not in Meteor City.

"I see." Gyro smiles thinly.

"Part of the negotiations, apparently, consist of your trial," says the Elder, as if he has merely asked someone to pass the butter, please.

"For what?" Gyro bites the bottom of his lip, as if masking a smirk.

"For treason against your own city. We can't very well do trade with someone so corrupt they would destroy their own family," Queen Unma says. "You'll understand that's a bit of a  _sensitive_  issue for us."

The room laughs uneasily.

"What crimes?" Gyro raises his eyebrows. D2 is obvious, but has he not brought prosperity to the Elders with it? The Queens will never win a battle against drugs.

"The disappearances of the Chimera Ant Refugees, for starters," says Queen Swinko-Swinko.

The room stills.

Gyro, however, looks bored.

"I think we're focusing on the wrong person for that situation," says an exasperated voice across the room.

Ging Freecs hunches his shoulders as he's shoved to the front of the crowd, flanked by Cheadle and Leorio.

"Elaborate," says the Chief Elder.

"Gyro is smitten with his own evil."

"Yes, I suppose Ging Freecs would know a thing or two about misdirected self-love," Raissa Valdrada says sharply, from her position just to the side of the table. She stands among the mafia wives and concubines.

Ging turns beet red, and Hisoka can only watch these two with suspicion.

There's no way – why does everyone keep  _fucking_?

"That's not it," Ging says, regaining his composure. "Gyro could care less about anyone else's nefarious schemes, even the Chimera Ants. You really ought to learn to see things beyond the surface."  
"We can't all be as smart as Ging Freecs," Beyond Netero says coolly, to Hisoka's surprise. But Beyond is through tolerating these shitty parents.

Ging flicks his fingers in annoyance. "The culprit for the vanishings is not Gyro. The true culprit, in fact, most recently worked for the Kakin Empire, as their First Mate aboard the  _Black Whale_  expedition."

Hisoka grinds his teeth. Now it all makes sense – how the Zoldycks knew about he and Illumi, how the mafia knew about Kurapika,

" _What_?!" Phinks blusters.

Oito shoots him a firm look as the Elders begin to murmur. She holds up her hand and gestures towards her fellow Queen.

"Captain Mercyn?" Unma demands.

"Not Mercyn," Hisoka-as-Baha says, sucking in air.

"Baha!" Queen Sevanti claps a hand to her mouth.

He ignores them. "His name is Pariston Hill. A hunter, a former member of the Zodiacs."

"And Gyro works for  _him_ , abducting citizens of Meteor City for  _him_ , an  _outsider_ ," Leorio says angrily. "I hardly think it's a difference. Pariston isn't here, after all, is he, Ging?"

"How would I know?" Ging shrugs. "He probably is. But maybe not."

"Fuck you."

"Leorio," Cheadle warns.

Gyro laughs mockingly. "You can't even agree together."

"To be fair, it's Ging Freecs," Morel says.

"Valid, but if I am a slave to this Pariston, why am I here instead of my master?" Gyro holds his hands up.

"Regardless, treason is certainly a concerning charge against you," says one of the Elders, under Raissa's timely glare.

At least one of the mafia members is on their side, Hisoka thinks. He grows sourer with every minute.

"Allow me to explain." Gyro rolls his eyes again. He flashes a smile, that powerful, inspirational smile any citizen of NGL, any child who fell into his trap, would recognize well. "I may have worked with Pariston Hill, but not for him. My intentions were to destroy him."

Gyro's nen creeps across the room. The nen of discernment. He's not…lying.

* * *

 _Can you take the girl_? Chrollo had asked. And Feitan, Feitan who so desperately wanted to redeem himself as a family man, could not say no.

Chrollo is grateful for Hina's escape, but his unease grows as he and Kurapika follow his dowsing chain further and further underground. Stalactites of quarts and droplets of amber rain from the ceiling.

"There's a treasure trove under the city," Chrollo breathes. "And no one knows."

"Now we know where the Elder's money comes from," Kurapika says flatly.

Chrollo curls his fist. "Those bastards."

"They robbed you all, didn't they, even when you thought you had robbed them?" Kurapika blinks back disbelief.

"Apparently, we are greater fools than we knew," Chrollo says with melancholy.

"What is it?" Kurapika asks, throwing him a tender glance.

Even those brown eyes are lovely, Chrollo thinks.

"I … have so much to confess," Chrollo admits, focusing on the sparkling domed ceiling.

"I'm sure," Kurapika says sarcastically. "It's not like you have lived a life of crime or anything."

Chrollo smiles slightly. "Being back here is…"

"Nostalgic?"

"In ways good and bad." Chrollo laughs hollowly. "Do you know why? Do you suspect? I wouldn't be surprised if you did. Why I k – k – killed your tribe."

Kurapika stills. "Eyes…"

His voice trails off. Killing just for eyes, killing what Chrollo believed to be all the eyes, extincting them from ever existing again – it's impractical. And Chrollo is practical.

"A grudge? You're much like me, after all." Kurapika's fingers brush Chrollo's shoulder.

"A misplaced one. Yours, at least, was well-directed. I approached them to see the eyes I'd noticed with you, yes, but that was it. Their, hmm, hostility towards outsiders reminded me of the mafia here. And I…I decided to teach them a lesson." Chrollo ponders for a moment. "No, that's not it. I wanted to show them I had power. That they couldn't laugh at us garbage of Meteor City. I killed them … because I thought it proved my own worth. The eyes were merely a present."

He looks at his hands, the hands that just held his intendeds, the hands that once held an ancient knife to carve out the eyes of his intended's family. "I was a fool."

Kurapika swallows. "Well. I can't say we were always the nicest to outsiders."

"Given what happened, you oughtn't have been." Chrollo's lips tremble. Dammit, why is he an emotional man? "That's just the beginning of my confessions."

"We'll have a lot of time to confess to each other after this, won't we?" Kurapika presses his lips together and fights his tears. "And even more time to forgive."

It's fucked up, but he's relieved. He's relieved that he and Pairo didn't give Chrollo the idea. He's relieved Chrollo hadn't instantly planned on killing them.

 _Instant_  is a small word with no bearing on the actual results. But Kurapika finds comfort in it anyways.

"Here we go." Chrollo turns the corner to see two arching doors.

Kurapika grabs the towering handles and yanks.

* * *

The entire room knows. They know that Gyro truly did wish to hurt Pariston. And because humans see in nothing but simplicity, they will only see a defender, not another traitor.

Hisoka feels like drowning. Gyro is going to escape again.

And he is once more powerless, alone.

And he's alone because of his own choices. Because he played the victim in a desperate attempt to – to what? To connect with Illumi? To tell a small part of the truth, only to shy away from the entirety?

Illumi would leave him if he knew how Hisoka failed.

How Hisoka was at fault.

"Don't believe him!" snaps a voice.

Hisoka turns to see Machi and a bruised, shirtless Feitan spilling out of the elder's back room. Between them stands a teenage girl and Ikalgo the Octopus. 

"Who are you?!" demands another elder. He scrambles to his feet.

"People who know intentions don't always mean shit. Gyro was keeping this child as a slave," Machi says firmly, wrapping an arm around the girl.

"He hurt my mother." Feitan adds.

"Who among us can resist a woman?" Gyro laughs, and to Hisoka's nausea, most of the elders chuckle. "And by enrolling her in my service, I granted that child safety from Pariston."

"Didn't I, Hina?" He turns to her, and the girl shies away.

"Answer the question," Ging barks. She'll tell the truth. Gyro will go down. Right?

Hina's lips tremble, and her eyes are bright with tears.

"Didn't I?"

Hisoka wants to scream. Gittanracker looks at him with alarm.

"She's obviously scared," Oito declares. Duazal and Sevanti nod in agreement.

"So you're a psychic now?" an elder tosses back.

"No, a human," Oito says icily.

"And the child is not," points out the head elder.

"What does that have to do with it?" Phinks shouts, slamming the railing with his fist.

Hisoka swallows bile.

And just then – just then –

"No," he hears a voice interrupt the arguing. "No, you're not innocent, Gyro. Gyro, you accuse Pariston of corrupting many ants, but you yourself corrupted hundreds of children. Isn't that right?"

It takes him a moment to realize the voice is his own.

* * *

Chrollo and Kurapika stare at the acres of bodies sprawling in a cavern that stretches for hundreds of meters. Fluorescent liquids flow through tubes between one chimera's wolf head and a pig woman's stomach. Some ants have been sewn together. It appears that a small, shrunken victim of Pap has been attached to a horse-ant's body.

Chrollo's not one to shy from the dying, but this is something else. Nausea sweeps over him.

"Help," says a woman chained by her neck like a dog. A silver horn grows from her forehead. Her eyes shiver and seize upon the sight of people who are not his captors.

"I thought the Horned tribe was long extinct," Kurapika says dully.

She recognizes his clothing. "Kurta?"

Kurapika nods. Chrollo places a hand on his shoulder.

"Run!" She wails suddenly, as a shout rings out.

"And here you are, my little Scarlet-Eyed Devil, into my little lab by your own free will!" crows a voice.

A man clad in pink satin dances down the aisle. Sparks of nen shimmer around him.

Chrollo raises an eyebrow. He's finally met someone more flamboyant than Hisoka. Color him surprised.

"And Chrollo, back from the dead, too!" The man waves his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. Together. In our true forms."

"True?" Kurapika asks slowly.

"Captain Mercyn," Chrollo says instantly, at the same time Kurapika hisses, "Pariston!"

"Not just me." Pariston pirouettes. At first, small sparks of nen tornado around him. They grow and glow, and glow, and grow, and suddenly they shoot through the entire room, filling everything with Light.

"And then there was Light," Pariston whispers.

Every ant they land on – including a luminescent Meleoron, Kurapika realizes – begins to rise. Their shackles slough off, dissolving like smoldering acid.

"Keep these two alive, but kill the elders, my little pets," Pariston commands.

"Gyro wasn't –" Kurapika bursts out.

Chrollo says nothing as the ants surge upon them, as Pariston laughs. "That's right, Chrollo: your worst enemy was merely my pawn."

He lowers his voice to a whisper once more. "And it was good."

* * *

Gyro turns his foul, foul eyes upon Captain Baha. "Now, don't hide yourself, dear. Your aura was always very recognizable."

Texture Surprise fades away to reveal a tall, muscular clown. His hair is as impeccably gelled as always, his eyes lined with black. A pink star adorns his left cheek, a teal teardrop his right.

"Hisoka!" The elders recoil.

"I see you're heard of me." He licks his lips, forcing a smirk.

"Still throwing yourself at me, after all these years?" Gyro laughs. "We all know you're too old for me now."

Hisoka turns the whitest Phinks has ever seen him. For the first time, the troupe sees fear flicker across his face.

Machi sucks in her breath. "You son of a bitch."

"What?" Phinks demands. "I don't understand."

"Stop, Phinks," Nobunaga says quietly. His hand clenches his sword so tight his knuckles turn white.

And then Phinks sees the green on Oito's countenance, and he does understand.

 _Fuck_.

Hisoka turns his head away. "It doesn't matter."

Gyro shrugs. "Any yet, I still loved you more than your mother. You were eating candy wrappers to fill your belly when I found you. You would have starved to death without me."

Hisoka remembers running to the fighting rings, remembers smiling up at the nice man who fed him and talked to him. Remembers telling him that one day he's going to make it all the way to Heaven's Arena and beat the top fighter there.

 _There are better options for a pretty child like you._ The nice man's hand cupped his face, and Hisoka gulped, because he didn't want to offend anyone, especially not this nice man, but he really wanted to fight, not dance.

"He wanted it." Gyro looks at him. "Isn't that right, Hisoka? You cried when I said you were getting too old. You were, oh, fourteen, and  _you_  dragged  _me_  into your bedroom. You said you loved me and expected me to marry you."

Hisoka feels like melting through the floor. Illumi will hate him now. Hate him for calling it rape, when he wanted it. "I – I di – I didn't – know."

"Didn't know? You enjoyed it, until this world told you it was wrong."

Hisoka shakes his head. He – how can he – how can he explain – that with every woman and man he's fucked, sometimes multiple at once – it's always been to wash himself clean of Gyro?

That with every creature he beats and kills, he feels as if he's chipped away at the phantom that haunts him.

That he's never been able to separate fighting and fucking, because fighting is the one activity that makes him feel free of Gyro.

"Stop, stop,  _stop_ ," Hisoka tries to command, but it comes out like begging. Despite himself, he begins to sweat. His face burns from embarrassment.

Gyro looks around the room. He's disappointed not to see the Freecs brat. "Haven't you been helping yourself to young boys?"

"I helped them fight." Hisoka manages to say in a small voice, as if he were much, much younger than his twenty-eight years.

Teaching kids to fight. The opposite of what Gyro had done to him. Hahaha – was that in his subconscious all this time?

But he'd become aroused fighting Gon. That much was true. Even if he hadn't wanted to fuck Gon.

Hisoka wants to die. He can't bear to look at anything but the ground.

"I bet they're pretty, if he's anything like his father," Gyro says, eying Ging.

"I think we have what we need –" Raissa counters, shaking with fury.

Hisoka claps his hands against his face, startled into speech again. "Get your  _disgusting_  eyes off him!"

"Disgusting? You didn't think so when you begged to please me." But for now, Gyro looks Hisoka up and down. "When you shaved your new hair just to keep me interested."

Hisoka is drowning in hatred. For himself. Why had he thought this was okay? Why had he done that? Was he always evil, twisted, nothing more than a clown?

They'll never pity him. He wanted it.

This is his fault.

He hangs his head. "But … I was a kid."

"I was a kid when I killed my father, too. That doesn't excuse you."

_It's my fault. It's my fault. It's all my fault._

Hisoka thinks of slitting his own throat with his cards, cutting off the skin that's hot with shame, removing his tongue that once touched Gyro. Illumi deserves better than him.

"Hisoka, be a good boy. Tell everyone the truth," Gyro sings.

_Be a good boy._

_Tell me what I want to hear._ Candy crinkled in his pocket, and seven-year-old Hisoka was so very scared and so very hungry.

He feels powerless again.

"I liked it," Hisoka recites, closing his eyes. His voice cracks.  _I hate it. I hate this. I hate you. I hate me._

"No!" A voice yells suddenly.

Hisoka's eyes pop open.

Gon Freecs marches forward, jabbing his finger at Gyro. Behind him, the younger Zoldycks host a horde of small children, bruised and sniffling and free.

"It's not Hisoka's fault.  _You_  were the adult.  _You_  manipulated him and  _you_  hurt him and he just tried to grab onto anything that felt good so he could survive!"

Hisoka's mouth hangs open.

"I suppose, by your rules, it wasn't your fault for Pakunoda either, because she was a prostitute? Even though she was a  _child_ ," Machi spits.

"There's no excuse." Oito growls. " _Never_."

"You're trying to divide us again. To make him think we blame him. Well, it won't work," Franklin fumes. "We know better."

"This is one of the few cases in the known world where Hisoka is  _entirely_  innocent," Nobunaga adds. "You hurt  _our_  friend."

Hisoka stammers. No – they must misunderstand – why?

"It's my fault. It's my – he's right," Hisoka finally chokes out. And for once, the room sees the Hisoka he's always hidden behind double entendres and brutal fights.

He's scared, He's still the kid hiding under his bed so Gyro would leave him alone, because he didn't understand what was happening, only that it made him feel ashamed. He's the child screaming for attention so that he could at least pretend people cared about him. Who cannot lose, because weakness means being trapped in the back room, and who cannot let himself care, because when he cares, he is betrayed.

"You're wrong, Hisoka."

Black en explodes behind Gyro. The room goes silent.

" _How dare you_."

Killua has never seen Illumi's full bloodlust, but he sees it now, and it's fucking petrifying. Illumi's hair swirls around a greenish face. His eyes burn black fire. He walks  _through_  the rail, not around or over.

"You hurt Feitan's mother. You hurt this little girl. You hurt my husband. You hurt hundreds of others." Illumi steps closer. "And you humiliated Hisoka  _again_ , just now, as if abasing his childhood wasn't enough."

"You're one to lecture about children, after trying to kill your own sister. And Machi, how many Kurta babies did you slaughter? You think the one in your belly makes up for it?" Gyro laughs.

"Did he tell you? Did Feitan tell you he is my son? A product of the very crime you're crying about?" Gyro shakes his head.

Illumi shakes his head back. "Don't try to pin this back on us. You've shown no remorse, no shame."

"If you kill a protected Ant, you won't be a hunter yourself anymore. If you kill a man for vengeance, you won't be an assassin. What will lonely little Illumi be without his assassinations?"

"I won't be lonely. I have six siblings and my husband." Illumi raises his needle. "And – and  _friends_."

"Don't bother." A tall woman, with a face even more worn than her tunic and Hisoka's hair, suddenly leaps onto the floor. She plunges a knife straight into Gyro's throat.

"You told me to go there, where it hurt the most, right?" She laughs as the dying man gapes at her.

Gyro doubles over, gagging, as she sneers.

And then he shoves the knife straight back into the heart of Illuna Morow.

Illumi catches her as Gyro crashes to the floor.

Hisoka stands still. Frozen.

"What is your relationship to Hisoka?" Illumi hisses, as if he doesn't already know.

"Ha…you know already. You're just like Kikyo, trying to trap me." The woman hacks up blood.

Illumi glances towards Hisoka, who remains unable – or unwilling – to move.

And then Feitan crosses the room. He touches Gyro's paltry pulse and snorts with derision. Yet he must hesitate. 

Ikalgo flings himself forward, wrapping a tentacle around his  odious leader. The man who inspired his life, and yet the vilest of living creatures. "No one should die alone." 

So he will sit here, hating Gyro, while grateful for what Gyro gave him, while hating everything he took from others. 

And so Feitan keeps walking. He walks right up to Hisoka, wraps his hand around Hisoka's wrist, tugs him closer to Illumi and this woman.

"What is your name?" Illumi asks her.

"Illuna Morow," Hisoka says hollowly. Kikyo – she knew Kikyo – why is he even surprised? He and Illumi were alwys connected by more than mere luck.

Illumi blanches. So he was named for this woman, wasn't he? Named for his husband's mother.

"Ha, the shorty's here too," Illuna turns her eyes towards Feitan as her speech slurs. "I have so many secrets."

 _Feitan_? Illumi and Machi's eyes meet. Both pale as they recognize the resemblance between Troupe Members 2, 4, and 11.

"This not about me," Feitan says, pushing Hisoka forward.

"Hisoka."

Hisoka is not even sure what to say. He easily hated Kikyo. But his own mother?

He doesn't want to hate her, nor love her. He doesn't want to feel anything really.

"I thought I was enough," she whispers. "Why wasn't I enough?"

"You…" Hisoka lifts his eyes to her. "Why wasn't  _I_  enough?!"

"Shorty." Illuna lifts her eyes to Feitan.

"Mother?" He looks confused.

"Close," she slurs. "Hisoka."

"Nanika?" Illumi turns to his sister, who is already racing forward.

"Hand –"

Illuna opens her mouth, just as a blinding light rocks the Hall of Elders. Everything – the limestone table, the encrusted rail, Gyro's corpse and Illuna's limp body, rises.

Everyone standing suddenly finds themselves sprawled across the floor. Pinned like magnets.

Illuna falls onto her child, and she whispers to him, like she used to when she read him stories, in the few memories before Gyro. "I'm sorry I wasn't enough to save you."

His mother collapses atop Hisoka as dozens of weaponized creatures storm the hall.


	46. The Rebirth of the Zoldycks

**Chapter Forty-Six**

**The Rebirth of the Zoldycks**

**There are officially 3 chapters left, counting this one, plus a few epilogues. T-T**

The hazy ceiling glows gold. A farce, like his life.

Hisoka knows it's made of cheap plaster and clay, like every structure lucky enough to be solid in this wretched city, but the merciless afternoon sunlight casts everything in gold.

He's stuck to the floor, unable to turn his head away from that golden light. He's stuck, perhaps like the victims he entrapped in Bungee Gum before he killed them just because he felt like it.

And he's paralyzed in a room of people who don't like him, who know his darkest secret, who could destroy him because they've learned exactly what happened to him.

And somehow that is less disturbing than his pale, bleeding mother lying atop him.

Creatures – no, ants – an eclectic assortment of chimera ants loom above him, above everyone trapped to the floor. At another time, Hisoka would find them most amusing.

Hisoka struggles, but try as he might, he cannot so much as lift his hands to test his mother's pulse.

A scream rips from his throat. He ought – he ought to at least be able to know when she passes.

 _I don't want to be helpless again_.

"Hishoka," slurs a voice. Illumi, beside him.

"You okay," Feitan says hoarsely, trapped between the clown and Machi, unable to even reach out to protect her stomach. But maybe his words can reach Hisoka, who looks like a frightened child, who suffered the same as his mother, who endured what Feitan wouldn't have wished on anyone.

* * *

Alluka sprawls in the entryway to the hall. Her legs won't move, and all the kids are piled behind her, the orphans and kidnapped victims and slaves who just tasted freedom.

No one had better hurt them.

Her eyes flicker to Nanika, who is further into the hall, who  _moves_  – slowly, as if chained, but she can still  _move_.

Alluka opens her mouth, but Nanika trembles her head.  _Don't alert them yet._

In the hall, the Chief Elder scrambles back to the corner.

Alluka bites her tongue to keep from screaming. The elders can still move, can still run – can still be run down. One falls, tripping on those silly robes, with an ant's talon in his heart.

The Chief Elder's wails turn to gurgles. Blood splashes onto the wives and mistresses. Probably his wife, too.

 _It's so unfair_. Alluka's eyes pool.

The hall air grows salty as the elders lie in pools of blood. She sees Big Brother Illumi's fingers twitch for his needles, but he – he can't – move them.

_How long are we going to endure this?_

A hum breaks into her thoughts.

Alluka's eyes slide to Nanika, who mouths the word, "Nen."

Alluka's jaw slackens. She can speak. "Their nen isn't theirs. It's someone they know."

"Pariston," Nanika says softly. "I thought so."

Behind her, Killua's eyes darken.

The sisters are interrupted by another howl.

The queens are released. They stumble back into each other, forming a circle, as the ants advance.

 _They're releasing us only to kill us_ , Alluka realizes with newfound panic.

"Stop!" Oito holds out a hand. She doubles over to shield Woble. "We mean you no harm. We were trying to  _find_  you."

Phinks, Phinks is helpless behind the rail. Alluka sees the terror in his eyes – and the recognition that he, too, has caused this terror for others.

"They won't listen." Tubeppa steps in front of Unma.

"It's not their fault. They're hypnotized." Oito's eyes brim with tears. Her nen won't manipulate anyone hypnotized – or perhaps she isn't powerful enough.

Is this really how it ends? She started a revolution only to lead her family into slaughter? Slaughter by ants who aren't even cognizant of their own actions?

"You need to help me," Nanika says, loudly.

Alluka looks at her. What is her twin planning?

She doesn't know. But she knows that if anyone can save them, it's her twin. "'Kay."

Nanika shrieks. Her nen soars out, enveloping every member of Kakin royalty, every mafia wife and mistress and lover, every first floor audience member.

But those in the middle – Illumi, Hisoka – if she strains a bit more – Machi has a baby – Feitan has been tortured – agh, she's going to shatter!

Alluka feels blinded by the tension, by the power.

And then they all vanish.

Nanika gasps. Her head pounds, and she retches. Still, Alluka feels her limbs lighten, and she grabs her sister.

"I can't battle that man's nen for long. We need to get out." Nanika clutches her throbbing head.

"Everyone leave," Alluka screams towards those in the balcony, to Hisoka and Illumi and Feitan and Machi, who were left on the floor.

"Get the kids, Killua." Kalluto grabs Alluka.

"Hey!" Alluka lurches backwards, sending Kalluto stumbling into Feitan's hands. Beside him, Machi holds Hina's hand.

"Alluka, tell Kurapika they need to stop Pariston," Nanika croaks.

"What about you?" Alluka turns back, only for Ikalgo to hoist her in the air. "Got you, kid."

"Just go!" Nanika growls. "Get the kids, and go."

She teeters.

She doesn't have the energy to move the kids. She can't even fight these creatures, these ants, headed towards her.

"Gon, take the lead!" Killua shouts.

Killua is good with kids. They will like him. Nanika smiles inside, though she's too spent to focus outside.

Her Zoldycks will have to defend the kids. She'll have to trust her family.

"Oh no, you don't!" Killua rushes back to grabble for Nanika, but a card cuts his hand. Hisoka.

Don't think. Just move. That's always what Hisoka has done, isn't it?

But now, that may be just what he needs.

"Let's go." Hisoka grabs Killua and hesitates.

"Nanika!" Illumi stands before her. He trusts Hisoka. He trusts Hisoka to get Killua out of here.

"Illumi." She tries and fails to smile. "I think you can all move freely once you escape the building."

Illumi whitens. Until everyone is out, or Chrollo and Kurapika kill Pariston, Nanika have to stay here.

"Nanika. You are my family." Illumi bends over her. His hair cascades over her like a raven waterfall. "I won't leave you."

Hisoka shakes. If Illumi dies, if Illumi dies, if Illumi stays here, no one will love Hisoka.

No, whispers a voice. A memory. Of Illumi's bloodlust, of Gon's impassioned defense, of Feitan's whisper while they lay helpless.

People will.

So he does what Illumi would want. He takes Killua, and runs.

* * *

Chrollo raises Bandit's Secret. In a flash, a third of the Ants have been teleported into the wall, but that merely slows them down. They thunder towards he and Kurapika a second time.

They should be unconscious, but whatever Pariston has done has rendered them with enhancement–like durability.

Chrollo curses. If only he had Black Voice. No; if only he had  _Shalnark_. Of all the times to miss his friend, now is particularly inconvenient.

He can't allow any more through.

Chrollo summons Tserriednich's decay and melts the doors until he and Kurapika are sealed in this tomb, trapped with Pariston and his experiments.

Kurapika guards Chrollo's back, struggling not to give in to the seduction of Emperor Time as he knocks ant after ant back.

Chrollo's eyes fall onto a chameleon ant. "You?"

Meleoron shuffles towards them, eyes blank, as if they were never allies.

 _If we had arrived sooner_  – Chrollo catches his breath.

Stealth Dolphin returns to Kurapika's side. His voice is low. "They have been enhanced in all forms of nen. Each ant to varying degrees. And they're following an enchantment not their own."

"They're prototypes," says Pariston, clapping his hands. His sparks have faded to a circle of ash around him. The sealed door bothers him not in the least.

Chrollo feels Kurapika stiffen behind him.

_Protoypes…human experiments…_

"The children," Kurapika hisses. "You wanted us to bring them here to convict Gyro!"

"And you cooperated so nicely. Fresh blood, indeed." Pariston smiles. Truthfully, should he gain the children, they will be more valuable experiments than these pathetic adults, but they're a distraction from the Main Event.

Kurapika tries to lunge forward, but Chrollo catches him. "Kurapika, he wants  _you_!"

* * *

As an assassin, Silva knows death better than most. He can even anticipate it – the smell, the startled comprehension in a human's eyes, the warm splatter of blood.

And now he's about to watch his eldest son and that – that thing – that thing that seems, for whatever reason, to no longer be inside Alluka – die. As unfortunate members of the balcony, Silva and Kikyo Zoldyck have not been liberated from their prison, and, because this is not assassination, they are helpless.

Silva gnashes his teeth. He's grateful Illumi no longer wishes to kill his brother, but this isn't his brother. This thing isn't Silva's child, and it's not human, despite its appearance.

Kikyo whimpers besides him.

Silva has always been willing to sacrifice his family. Always. When Zeno told Silva not to regard his life if a mission's success was at stake, he felt nothing.

He only felt – he only failed when he felt. And he only ever felt for Kikyo, all those years ago.

He's only failed the assassin's path once.

Unlike Illumi. Illumi, who tried to hide his unstable emotions, his fixation on his family, with coldness. Illumi, who broke down and married a man, an effeminate trash clown who suffered that hideous humiliation ten minutes ago.

Illumi is a terrible assassin.

Milluki is lazy. Killua is a philanthropist voyeur. Alluka is weak. Kalluto is a thief.

None of his children are the perfect assassin, or even good assassins. Assassins are so much more than killing. Assassins are a mindset.

Kikyo whimpers again.

Silva clenches his jaw. He hopes Kikyo will forgive him.

He won't ask his children the same, because Silva Zoldyck will never allow himself to consider his wrongs.

He draws his nen around him. The indigo orb grows larger and larger, until the ants are distracted, until Illumi's eyes widen with premonition.

Illumi seizes the Thing as Silva implodes the entire building, including himself.

* * *

"You wanted me for science." Kurapika's eyes flash scarlet. Chrollo's hand presses into his chest, restraining him.

For now, Pariston seems to have stopped the ants from attacking them. Good. Chrollo will hate to kill them, so he doesn't mind the delay. Besides, he might not hate to kill Pariston.

"Well, the children, too. Humans and ants and all animals must combine in the end, correct? To form a super-species? It'd be great if I could catch that Ai Zoldyck, too." Pariston shrugs.

"And what, give them pretty eyes?" Kurapika demands. "Clone me?"

"You know, for someone so consumed with Scarlet Eyes, you're remarkably ignorant on their potential." Pariston scoffs.

"There's risk, of course. But the enhancement you gained by using them was not unique to you. It wasn't just enhancement, of course – you mastered all six nen techniques. All  _six_. Not even Chrollo Lucilfer has mastered all six." Pariston clenches his fist. "Just by the power of your Scarlet Eyes."

Kurapika shakes his head. "I put limits –"

"Oh, pish-posh. You put limits because you hate yourself. You could have mastered Emperor Time without harming yourself, if you hadn't been so rash. But I hear that rashness is part of your charm." Pariston tilts his head. "Am I right, Chrollo?"

Chrollo remains silent, but his grasp tightens on Kurapika. There's nothing about Kurapika he doesn't find charming, and he won't let Pariston's taunts sully his fiancé.

"People call the Kurtas demons because they feared you. You were killed because of your raw power, not your pretty eyes." Pariston's eyes gleam with unvarnished excitement. "Those eyes! People could overcome the world that imprisons them. Imagine a blind boy awakening to the world instead of spending his life draining societal funds. Imagine the villains that would be trounced by your strength. Imagine a world where Kurtas are exalted, rather than a sad blot on a history page."

Kurapika swallows.

"If you are  _truly_  righteous, the only option you have is to sacrifice yourself."

Kurapika hesitates. He recognizes the deception in Pariston's words, the possibilities presented as promises, the mockery of his self-righteousness.

But. Is it not true, that just by staying alive, he denies Uvogin and Pakunoda and Neon and all his victims their justice?

That by refusing humanity just for his own sight, may be delaying aid for a suffering child?

"Don't listen to him, Kura," Chrollo pleas. "Remember? Remember what I told you just before we entered these doors?"

Kurapika starts. Oh. Oh.

"No," Kurapika says slowly. "I know why we were killed."

"Oh?"

"We were killed because children were traumatized." Kurapika looks at the ants' faces, anywhere but Pariston.

"So you think you Kurtas deserved to die, is that it? And yet, you won't lay down your life?" mocks Pariston.

"No. You let me finish," Kurapika lectures. "We were killed because the Troupe only learned that – that killing was the Band-Aid on all the horrors they endured. Because they learned to escalate lest they get hurt, even if the situation didn't warrant it. I killed their members because I learned the same."

"Chrollo told me." Kurapika shakes his head. "And I trust him. I've been laying down my life  _ever_  since then. I've been sacrificing myself in an attempt to atone since, in an attempt to earn the approval of the dead, and all it yielded was more death! And you know what?"

He screams. "None of them came back, even to tell me they loved me!"

* * *

Kikyo Zoldyck has birthed six children, and never lost consciousness. Her training ensured that.

So when she staggers out of the smoking rubble, as light dissolves into the darkness that was her unconscious, this is a first.

The explosion has burnt her husband's crest into her palm. And Silva is nothing but shreds before her.

And she is alive, though she wants to be dead.

Around her, ants stagger awake, sniffing the air. They're not after her, though, no, they're after the kids.

That's what That Thing said.

That Thing. The Spiders. It's their fault.

The Spiders stole her kids.

That Thing stole her husband. Kikyo sprints ahead of the ants.

* * *

"If I sacrifice from now on, it will be for the living. I will never lay my life down for you," Kurapika declares.

"That's a pity." Pariston says coldly. "But you won't kill me, either?"

"I will." Chrollo speaks matter-of-factly.

"Don't," Kurapika gasps.

"Kura." Chrollo yanks the cloth off his forehead. Solely for drama. "I love you too much to let him live, and I love you too much to let you sully your soul another time."

"Mmmm." Pariston smirks. "But there's another option, isn't there, Kurapika?" He grins at the chains on Kurapika's wrists.

"I'm past your manipulation," Kurapika says angrily.

"Hmm, but the ants here are not. My Spark of Inspiration can endure for long periods of time." Pariston waves his hand, and the hypnotized ants take another step closer. "And the ants above ground? They're closer and closer to your beloved friends."

"If you kill me, they'll never be free." Pariston winks.

"Don't ask Kurapika to sacrifice himself," Chrollo snaps.

Pariston throws back his head and laughs. "Chrollo, you really are the worst hypocrite."

* * *

Below the faded rainbow that marks the circus, a hundred children cry and clutch each other, guarded by weeping assassins, thieves, and a clown.

"They're headed over," Nanika says grimly. Illumi wipes his leaking eyes to push Nanika behind him on instinct. Feitan wraps Kalluto closer to him, and Hisoka stands before Killua and Gon.

Gon shouts, and Killua's head whips round to see Machi doubled over, a needle sticking out of her shoulder.

_No – that's –_

"You! You're part of the Troupe who caused this!" Kikyo Zoldyck, half-dead, covered in congealing blood, rushes through the door to hurl needle after needle at the pink girl. The girl who stole her sweet Kalluto.

She can't hate Hisoka after that disgraceful display. She can't hate the son of her dead half-friend. So she will blame the other spiders. It's always blame, blame, blame, blame others aloud so that she can ignore how much she truly hates and blames herself.

" _Stop_!" Killua shrieks.

Machi dives right, but a needle hits her in her chest. She wraps her hands around her belly just in time to stop two more from piercing her.

"I said stop!" Kalluto hurls paper towards his mother as Feitan springs her away.

Illumi dives in between Kikyo and Machi, allowing his mother to hit him one last time. " _Mother_!"

He yanks the needle out from between his eyes. His mother's emotional pain, a nen without name because it needed none, seeps in through his veins, and it hurts, it really hurts, it always has. But compared to what he just witnessed with Hisoka, Illumi hardly counts this as suffering.

He narrows his eyes. He doesn't need to shout; his words will be loud enough. "That woman is carrying your grandchild."

Kikyo freezes. "What?"

"Oh, it's not  _his_ ," Machi calls bitterly.

Kikyo's eyes slide to Feitan, that bare-chested, small fool who stumbles over his sword. Kalluto's paper fan drifts towards the dirt floor of the circus.

Kikyo looks up and down. A short man, just like Gyro.

Lanky, like her sons.

With the same jet-black hair.

Those almond shaped eyes she's always hidden behind her visor.

"What does that – " Hisoka turns towards Kikyo, who looks ill.

Feitan begins to hyperventilate.

"Fei." Machi speaks slowly, deliberately, and yet his nickname remains sweet on her lips, sweet enough for him to catch his breath. "Is this woman your mother?"

"Can't be," he says sharply.

"Feitan?" Kalluto's voice cracks.

"What do you think, little one?" Machi asks Alluka softly.

"I – I think – maybe," Alluka stammers. "I think I sense a bond, but it's faint."

"Alluka?" Kikyo wrinkles her nose.

"Yeah, like any person, she has her own nen and all," Killua says sarcastically. "She senses relationships."

Kikyo's mouth opens and closes.

Feitan swallows. He feels Kalluto's desperate eyes on him.

 _Are you my brother_?

"I your better Father," he says stiffly.

"Why not both?" Kalluto sticks out his tongue, and a laugh, partially of terror, partially of panic bubbles up.

"You're my brother?" Illumi looks mesmerized.

All, however, are interrupted by a hacking laugh from Hisoka.

Illumi taps his lips, as if sensing Hisoka's thoughts. "Oh dear."

"Does this mean I am  _actually_  an uncle to Machi's kid?" cries the clown.

"You bastard!" Feitan points his sword at Hisoka, because it's easier to face the clown than his mother.

"I can't accept this! You're not – I was never raped! I'm not him!" Kikyo points towards Hisoka.

"Thank God for that," Gon says, to Hisoka's relief.

"Stop looking at me! I never had you!" Kikyo screams at Feitan. "I never – Silva is the only thing I ever had! And he's dead!"

She waves her fingers towards all of them, shrieking. "You all think you'll gain a brother, but your father is  _dead_! You ungrateful –"

A sneaker flies through the air to crack Kikyo in the head. She slumps to the ground.

"Found you." Milluki, missing a shoe, totters in with Palm at his side.

Palm covers one of her eyes. "The others are safe so long as we keep luring them here."

"Can we really beat these monsters? Without killing them?" cries Hina.

Killua and Illumi exchange glances.

* * *

Like ants following a scent, the modified Chimera Ants line towards the circus. A bystander – his name and face are unimportant – throws himself at them, and they promptly lop out his stomach. They leave him screaming, dying.

_Kill. Kill adults._

_Take the children._

But door to the circus opens before the ants arrive.

"You'll have to get past us first." Killua's arms are crossed. Beside him stands Gon, his hands balled into fists. Nanika and Alluka hold hands, smiling eerily. Kalluto waves his fan, and Milluki stands next to Palm.

Hisoka holds playing cards, Illumi his needles. Feitan points his sword, and Machi's threads are ready.

"Who the hell are you, brats?"

"The Zoldycks," Killua says, and for once he feels no burden in the name.


	47. Justice and Judgement

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

**Justice and Judgment**

**One. More. Chapter. After this. And then 1 official epilogue and 3 side-story/epilogues.**

A thrill washes over Illumi when he realizes that no one recognizes the Zoldyck name. Whether that is the affect of their hypnosis or merely Meteor City, he finds the anonymity liberating. His siblings can be more than assassins here.

The scores of ants may not recognize their name, but they quickly realize that they Zoldycks are not, apparently, an easy family to kill. Much like his needlepeople, Illumi thinks, brainwashed people do not good fighters make.

The real trick, Illumi finds, is not killing  _them_.

He fills his needles with minimal aura, stab them until they compliantly sleep for Master Illumi. Like the needle he placed in Killua's head. Not enough to kill, but to control, at least for now.

And then Killua's electricity cauterizes where the needles pierce. He's finally, finally working with his brother.

The lives of an entire city, or at least its children, may depend ont hem, but Illumi has never felt more alive. They're too busy for him to fear for Killua. He has no choice but to trust him, and as a result, Killua even smiles at him.

Kalluto's fan sends a fox-like ant crashing a crumbling block that Milluki sends flying. The ant drops to the ground, and Palm's hair promptly secures its hands.

"Where would the men be without us," Machi grumbles to Palm as her stitches fasten half a dozen more ants to the ground.

Palm grins. This Spider is zany herself. And she doesn't think Palm is crazy. They could be friends, when this is done.

* * *

Alluka holds up her sister as her concern grows. Her relationship-sensing nen is useless right now, meaning she's only here because the alternative was leaving her with a sedated Kikyo inside the circus.

Now she thinks she needs to be here, though. Because while Nanika removes the consciousness of one ant after another, her twin clearly hasn't recovered from the Hall of Elders. She sways on her feet.

"What if I bleed the ants to almost death? Would you be able to save them?" Hisoka wheedles, using bungee gum to tie a few more down. One looks to be younger than Kallluto, and it hurts as he screams.

Alluka glares at him.

"She's inherited your death eyes, Illumi," Hisoka calls as he pops the nose of a wolflike creature. He'll say anything light. Anything to avoid the past, once more. At least until they win.

* * *

"On the contrary," Kurapika says. "I may be the most hypocritical of all."

"You're not," Chrollo says instantly. He won't abide Kurapika castigating himself any longer.

"Really, you both are." Pariston laughs as Meleoron approaches them. "If I ordered your friend to kill you now, you both would let it happen. For friendship. And yet you killed, threatened, maimed  _how_  many? Just because you didn't know them."

He pirouettes. "Not that I am one to condemn. I'm no better."

"But you  _do_  think you are, or else why would you do this?" Kurapika counters. "You slaughtered the elders for complicity. You could have used their nen; Chrollo's told me how powerful it is. Instead you killed them. Was that for some idea of justice?"

"You're both blind." Pariston howls with laughter before sobering. He clenches his fist. "I am not interested in  _justice_. I'm interested in testing the limits of our species. I want to break through the limits of life itself."

"You I killed the elders as a farce to gain followers," Chrollo says smoothly. Much like the Spiders once helped dismantle a mafia stronghold in Meteor City. That had earned them the city's gratitude.

"Indeed," Pariston says. He sighs, almost languid. "Not now, Meleoron. Don't fight them. I still need to extract more invisibility before you die."

Meleoron falls back.

"You don't own him," Kurapika says furiously. This ant is Killua and Gon's friend. Kurapika won't let him be hurt.

"And yet I have utter control over him, so now we're just arguing semantics." Pariston giggles. "Say, here I am, trapped by two powerful nen users. Is there a reason you haven't killed me yet?"

"Nen is more powerful after death," Chrollo says darkly. "I know. I would not risk these innocent people's lives."

"When stemming from strong emotion, yes, nen is more powerful. Killing me, now, that would be an experiment." Pariston claps his hands. "Because your little Kurapika is wrong. My strongest emotion has always been simple amusement. It's weak, an annoying, detestable thing, like a fruit fly, almost. My nen doesn't function on feelings."

He preens. "So kill me. Oh, do try it. Would my thoughts, my  _reason_ , become more powerful than primal emotions? That would be marvelous."

"I'm not the science type," Chrollo says dryly, though Kurapika's fingers flick towards his chains.

"Let's test that." Pariston flutters his fingers. His sparks fly onto Kurapika's chain, heating it until Kurapika leaps back, his hand blistered and burned.

 _These are conjured_  – Kurapika gasps.

 _He burns nen_.

Kurapika opens his mouth to yell a warning, because it's clear now – but Pariston already holds up his desire. Bandit's Secret rests in his lovely, soft hands.

"Book burning? How ignorant," Chrollo responds.

Owl emerges behind Pariston. The courier between Gyro and Pariston's factions, in this for his own selfishness. For the retrieval of his own nen.

Chrollo doesn't hate him, to his own surprise. He pities him.

But still. He needs that book back.

"I'd prefer not to. But I will, unless your little concubine yields." Pariston smiles at Kurapika.

"I'm his fiancé, not a concubine," Kurapika replies, his eyes glowing Scarlet, a Scarlet he will never give Pariston. "It's as if no one in this plot can see sex apart from power. And I won't yield to you."

"Are you so certain?"

Kurapika waits.

"Did you know, Kurapika? He wasn't in Zetsu during his captivity. He could have escaped anytime. Do you know why he didn't? Did he tell you?" Pariston grins. "It's the same reason he won't escape now."

Chrollo's expression is raw, as if Pariston has peeled off his body and exposed his most vulnerable feelings.

"You could have escaped?" Kurapika's voice cracks. He looks rattled.

"Not until shortly before the trial. And then…I still couldn't, even if I was physically free." Chrollo sucks in a breath. How can he say this? This was to be his next confession, once they were free.

Pariston jumps in. "He did it all to save you. He willingly sacrificed himself for you. You're his weakness."

Chrollo's face flickers with indignation. How dare this man expose his feelings to his lover before he could?

"Why?" Kurapika gasps.

 _Why, indeed_ …

Why. It's the one of the first questions Kurapika ever asked him. Aboard the Black Whale. Chrollo smiles slightly at the memory.

"Why?" Kurapika repeats.

Why? Why? Why, why, why?

In the end, isn't that the only question? Chrollo's words are cracked, hollow, barren.

He squeezes his eyes shut and releases a cry. "Because it's my fault!"

Kurapika looks ill.

Chrollo's grey eyes open wide, glistening with tears and fears. "It's my fault you hurt others! If I hadn't slaughtered your clan, you never would have done any of this! You would be having adventures with Pairo, who would have gotten healed. I can't give them back – I can't – so I gave you the only thing I could – I gave you atonement – because I know how much justice means to you."

Kurapika's lips part.

"I'm as much a masochist as you – would that I had been one sooner. Would that you had been criminal sooner. Would that we both learned from each other without  _killing_." Chrollo shakes his head as he futilely wipes his eyes. "Why did we do that? Why did I start the killing?"

* * *

"Hey!"

Gon turns to look, but just then, an ant is sent reeling backwards into Gon.

Gon punches the ant, and though his nen is now different – it's stretchier, almost, and softer – he's pleased to see he's still strong enough to render the female serpent unconscious.

"Hey yourselves," Machi calls.

Gon's mouth falls open.

Leorio sends his punch soaring towards more ants. Cheadle, Melody, and the rest of the Phantom Troupe stand behind him. Ging Freecs is held securely by Beyond Netero, and several mafia wives and mistresses straggle along, guarded by the Hunters.

"Thought you were supposed to hide!" shouts Alluka. She looks as pissed as Illumi would be if his siblings were in danger. Gon makes a mental note to tease Killua about that later.

"We got bored." Leorio grins and nods towards Cheadle.

She snorts. "And we were ordered by queens."

"And we need to find Kurapika," Leorio adds. "We're his friends. He and Chrollo are with the person who started this. We  _have_  to help."

"And Meleoron!" Ikalgo adds.

Cheadle marches through the ants without a care, towards the door of the circus. She's not a target, so they ignore her, like the mindless beasts they most definitely are not.

Cheadle turns to the rest of the group. "We'll protect these kids. The queens and wives will enter along with the kids. Let the rest of us handle these ants; you go see about your friends."

Biscuit morphs into her true form and crackles her knuckles; Hanzo is already diving into the fray, and Shoot's multiple hands weave in and out to target the strongest ants.

"Nanika, can you get us there?" Palm holds a hand against her eye to zero in on Kurapika, Chrollo, and Pariston. Her heart rate increases, to Melody's concern.

Nanika nods. "I won't be able to get us out, though."

"That's okay." Illumi reassures her before Killua can assure her himself.

The Zoldycks, Palm, Melody, and Gon rush out of the melee, towards Leorio, but Oito hesitates.

Raissa Valdrada holds out her hands to Oito. "I can take your child until you return."

"You won't harm us," Oito says, not even bothering to hide her manipulation.

"I never planned on it," Raissa promises, and oddly, Oito thinks she can trust her.

* * *

"Damn, I really liked fighting as a Zoldyck," says Hisoka as their surroundings begin to fade rush back into the grimy Hall.

"I mean, I'm not a Zoldyck," Gon says.

"We'll adopt you," Hisoka says, almost hesitantly, as he feels himself floating. But he's not hesitant because of the queer sensation; he's hesitant as if he can't believe that anyone would want anything to do with him.

"I can't marry him if he's my nephew!" Killua hisses.

"No one is marrying anyone, children!" Illumi reprimands.

"Machi's not a Zoldyck, either." Shizuku looks to the pink-haired vixen, who flushes.

"That a technicality," Feitan says. Grey, lustrous stone begins to materialize around them.

"I already am. I'm Kalluto's surrogate mother, remember?" Machi sticks her tongue out at Gon, drawing a smiling from Kalluto.

Palm laughs, well aware of the shy glances Milluki sends her, because he obviously, clumsily, wants to make her a Zoldyck.

She'll kiss him later. When they're alone. A first kiss he will treasure.

"Speaking of marriage, before we meet them, did I tell you Danchou and the Chain Bastard got engaged behind our back?" Machi puts her hands on her hips.

"What?" Feitan spits.

* * *

"Why? Because we're both horrible, hurting humans who hurt others. Even if not to the same scale, we are the same. And I forgive you; you know that already. I'll say it as many times as I must," Kurapika begs. "Chrollo,  _you are forgiven_."

Kurapika trembles. "Do you think I wouldn't take your crimes on my shoulders if I could? I would."

"This is all nice and compassionate, but let's move quickly, shall we?" Pariston tosses his head. "Kurapika, Chrollo will lose his book if you don't give in. Owl, another victim of the Spiders, will never recovr his nen."

Owl frowns. "Hand me the page!"

"Patience, my friend." Pariston shrugs. "Let's continue, Kurapika: your selfishness will destroy hundreds. Chrollo will be powerless to stop anyone in Meteor City who tries to kill him once they realize he is alive. And every ant in here, and more, will lose their lives under my Spark of Inspiration if you kill me. They'll probably kill you too."

Owl shakes his head frantically.

Pariston raises his voice. "You hear that? You all kill Kurapika if he kills me."

The ants stiffen. Ready to spring.

"I won't be powerless. I have friends," Chrollo replies. "Even if I don't deserve it."

Kurapika's brain begins to unfold the idea he's promised never to do. The idea that frightens Chrollo.

The idea that will save all of them from Pariston's nen, without killing Pariston.

* * *

 _If you're not going to make yourself useful, at least guard these kids_. The ant woman with the orb on her forehead had shoved Kikyo inside the circus door as hundreds of killer monsters descended upon this circus. Now these kids sat here locked inside a circus, like pigs for slaughter, and even worse, she was stuck staring stared at a hundred beggar brats from her past.

How many of them would grow up to let their children be raped? To kill? To drug themselves into oblivion?

"Are you okay?" asks a teenage girl, the girl that was Gyro's slave. The girl Kikyo almost wants to kill because those words flood memories into her mind.

"No," Kikyo says in a brittle voice.

"You will be," says a boy who seems more mottled bruises than golden skin.

A chubby-cheeked girl nods. "Nanika is powerful. She says we're all going to be okay, too."

"I don't think I can be," Kikyo says thinly. Nanika. Since when is that thing a human? That thing possessed her child, ruined Kikyo's children.

Rage begins to dominate Kikyo. She shakes, and while some children grin, most draw back. Good.

Chlidren won't save her. They killed her husband. The only good thing in her life.

Every time she bore a black-haired child, she felt herself sinking further into failure, into memories of that child who definitely wasn't hers. And then Killua, blessed Killua, and then he'd betrayed all of them. Everything she'd given him.

Kikyo laughs maniacally.  _So this is despair_.

She's not really sure how those who despair want to die. She doesn't want to die. She wants to burn in hell.

The door crashes open.

Despite herself, Kikyo's body reacts while her mind continues to melt. She whirls around with her needles in hand. Needles that should plunge any monster into her current emotion of despair.

Why is she fighting? Why does she even care? She's not saving these kids. It's not her responsibility.

She sends five needles towards the door anyways.

"Whoa!" A large figure barely escapes her nen.

Kikyo stumbles.

"Now, that isn't very kind," says Beyond Netero, ever jovial.

"You?" She growls. How humiliating. She hopes he hasn't felt her despair.

"You think we'd stay behind just to save our own skins? With innocent children at risk?" Seven of the eight Kakin queens rush into the circus, each with a feeble nen weapon of their own. Weak queens, but learning ones.

Ging Freecs is ushered inside next, followed by several mafia wives and Kikyo's former servants.

Kikyo refuses to look at the door.

"Your kids went to save their friends," says a wife with silky, limp green hair and childlike eyes. The woman who cradles the brat of the Kakin queen. Who someone seems to know what Kikyo refused to ask.

This bitch. She's too old to look so innocent. Not in Meteor City. Kikyo hates her.

Kikyo hates everyone. Including her kids, who have left her to guard kids she doesn't care about. She hates everything and everyone, and she hopes to burn in hell, that's right – it's untamable insurmountable despair – that's the only way to atone for Silva's death –

Tsubone snorts at Kikyo – or more specifically, her hand. Her hand that still holds a dozen needles, from when she expected an ant at the door.

Her hand pierces any self-delusions she has of untamable hatred or insurmountable despair.

* * *

Kurapika holds his Judgment Chain out. His heart pounds. He hopes – he hopes that somewhere in infinity Chrollo knows he's sorry.

Chrollo pales. "Kurapika, don't!"

Kurapika ignores him, like he always does, and swings the chain forward. "Stop!" Chrollo screams.

It catches Pariston's heart, and the man doubles over.

Kurapika does, too. His own heart fills with blood. Around his fingers, the chain begins to disintegrate into molten fragments that sear his flesh.

"Now you can never use your nen again," he hisses. His face turns ashen, and the pain he feels – it's nearly how he felt when he stumbled across that newspaper taunting him with his clan's eyeless bodies. He begins to sway.

"At least you'll go down, too. Both of you." Pariston uses what remains of his nen sparks to Chrollo's book.

"Have fun," he whispers as the pages ignite. He backs away, intending run, run far from what has just happened –

"You!" Meleoron leaps atop Pariston and pins him to the ground. Some ants scream to see their transformations. Some ants swarm Pariston, intent on revenge. And others begin to attack the door, determined to break free. All ignore Owl, as if he never mattered in the first place.

"Kurapika!" Chrollo rushes forward. His book is burning, along with every ability he's ever stolen – but Kurapika is dying.

"Kurapika, why would you do that? Are you crazy?" Chrollo catches the Kurta in his arms just before he collapses.

"Ngah – your book is burning." Kurapika's eyes aren't red. They're brown, because he's not really angry anymore.

"I don't care about that." Chrollo shakes him. His eyes shine with tears. Kurapika thinks they rather look like stars. His voice breaks. "Please, Kurapika – I love you."

Kurapika wishes he hadn't traded his soul for power. Placed a dagger in his own heart. But if he hadn't, he never would have met Chrollo in the first place.

So he doesn't mind.

Chrollo holds him tight as Gon and Killua materialize in, followed by Illumi and Hisoka. Leorio screams from behind them. Kalluto clutches Alluka and Nanika, and Feitan stops the rest of the troupe from approaching.

Danchou – Danchou is on is knees, cradling the Chain Bastard.

Tears stream from Chrollo's eyes as Kurapika looks at him. Kura doesn't smile with his mouth – he's too weak – but his eyes – they smile back at him, who doesn't deserve any of this.

And then their light fades. And Chrollo doesn't even have the heart to protest.

He's extincted the Kurta clan. By loving the last one. His own selfishness. He can't escape.

Chrollo hurts so much he forgets to breathe. He even forgets to see. Every muscle vibrates with pain. He would have rather himself died.

The sobs that escape his mouth are inhuman.

Gon gasps. "Wait."

Behind him, Illumi stiffens.

Chrollo frowns. The chain begins to reassemble. Each glowing droplet reforms, but this chain is different. It's gold instead of silver, and glorious enough that Chrollo feels unworthy to gaze upon it.

Kurapika coughs and stirs in Chrollo's arms.

"Kurapika?" Chrollo stares at the shifting young man. His eyes slowly open, and they're redder than Chrollo ever imagined, so red he wishes he were in heaven so he could look upon Kurapika forever.

Illumi kneels besides Kurapika. "What was the exact spell you used on this chain?"

"I would die if I used it for anyone but the Spiders," Kurapika mumbles.

Illumi smiles. Just a slight flicker. But it's enough to catch the attention of Hisoka and Killua.

"Then, by chaining Pariston, I think you did use it for the Spiders. Just…not in vengeance." Illumi traces the fine gold with his fingers. "Hence the shift from silver to gold. You used your nen curse for love instead of hate. It's rare, but not unknown."

Kurapika gapes at Chrollo.

"Told you that you loved me," Chrollo says gently, just knave enough for Kurapika to recognize him.

"Then why aren't you kissing me?" Kurapika yanks his lips onto his.


	48. The Vigilante and the Thief

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

**The Vigilante and the Thief**

**Next stop: Epilogue.**

A midnight moon arises over Meteor City, just enough to illuminate the blood-splattered streets and the tears that have dried to salt on its residents' cheeks. Just enough to see the whites of another person's eyes and lose your grip on hatred, if only for a second, because your eyes are white, too.

Inside the Hall of Elders, the Princes of Kakin have joined with the Meoeor City commoners, removing bodies from the slaughter and scrubbing the blood from the walls.

And inside the back room, on that ugly mossy carpet and before the long-deceased grandfather clock, the hope of Meteor City sleeps.

Nanika mumbles nonsense before rolling towards the edge of the mattress, the mattress she created for herself.

"Hold it." Hisoka uses Bungee Gum to roll her back onto the mattress. She doesn't awaken, to his relief.

Illumi's keen eyes do not miss the gentle smile, even though brief, on Hisoka's face.

"What?" Hisoka demands. He feels Illumi's soft, sincere gaze on him.

The rest of the Hall of Elders has become a makeshift hospital, the hospital Meteor City has never had before. Cheadle and Leorio have been running to and fro for hours, with Nanika healing anyone close to death.

The Kakin queens supply food from the Black Whale, and Pariston has found himself in a nenless prison with Tserriednich. Owl, on the Spider's insistance, has been released, nenless and alone.

Where he goes is up to him.

Fortunately, enough residents of Meteor City had witnessed the attack to believe the Kakin queens' innocence. Right now, the question is Pariston's fate, the establishment of a new government, and the use of the riches below the city to save its residents.

But those aren't questions for the Spiders, Hunters, or Zoldycks. It's close to midnight, and Nanika has finally reached her limit. Now, she sleeps, and the others take turns guarding her in the elder's backroom. Illumi, and Hisoka by default, volunteered first.

"You're still hurting, aren't you." Illumi utters a statement rather than a question.

Hisoka turns his head away from his husband.

Illumi waits.

"I did tell myself I liked it." Hisoka blurts out the most painful words first. He gasps and shivers, but forces himself to continue, speaking quicker and quicker. "I seized every moment I didn't feel like scum and held onto it. I told myself I was special. I was special because he had others and still chose me. I had – I had nothing, and he gave me something, even if it scared me."

Hisoka wraps his arms around his legs. His voice cracks. "It still scares me."

"It wasn't your fault." Illumi bends over Hisoka's huddled form, sticking his upside-down face directly in his. As if this is a perfectly natural stance, as only Illumi can. "You told me it wasn't my fault. I will tell you the same."

"I'm as hypocritical as Chrollo and Kurapika," Hisoka says with a sad laugh.

"It wasn't your fault." Illumi straightens and moves in front of Hisoka. He crouches before him. "I'm afraid, too."

Hisoka's eyes crinkle, the way they do when he's emotional and trying not to show it.

"It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not. It's an imperfect analogy, but are any of my needlemen and needlewomen at fault for what my manipulation does?" Illumi brushes Hisoka's cheek. "He manipulated you, not with nen but with food and power. It wasn't your fault."

Illumi has vowed never to say  _his_  name again.

"I'm not a good person," Hisoka says, with a shaky smile at the familiar touch.

"I never asked you to be." Illumi traces the teardrop on Hisoka's cheek.

Hisoka's face crumples. He bows his head and fights tears. His words come out in a gasp. "Don't ever compare yourself to that man again."

"Okay." Illumi looks straight into Hisoka's eyes.

Hisoka snickers. "We're two very broken men, aren't we?"

Illumi swallows.  _Broken_ … the one thing he's never wanted to be. But. "Yes, I think we are."

His eyes move to the door, where he left Killua standing with his arm around Gon, both of them glaring at Ging Freecs with a ferocity that thrilled Illumi. "But maybe we're going to be okay."

"We've got to, right? For your kid siblings." Hisoka smiles a watery smile, watery like fresh rain.

Illumi's eyes glow. "And Milluki, too."

"And Feitan and Machi's kid," Hisoka says. He shakes his head, bemused. "We're going to have a large family."

"I thought I was giving up my family, you know? By defying my parents, by letting Killua have friends and Kalluto join the Spiders, by allowing Nanika and Alluka to live." Illumi brushes Nanika's dark hair, dark and shiny like his own, back from her peaceful face. "But instead, I've just gained more and more."

Hisoka snakes his fingers between Illumi's and holds him tight.

* * *

Ging's expression remains sour the entire time Gon stares at him.

The shine of their first true conversation on the World Tree, the sparkle of the end to the hunt, has passed.

Gon looks at his father and he feels emptiness, emptiness stronger than his exhaustion late at night. That's why he requested Killua stay with him.

And Ging knows this, and he's annoyed.

"You might as well come over," Ging finally says, but he's not speaking to Gon. He's calling to Raissa Valdrada, the mafia widow who's been tailing them whenever she's not negotiating with the wealthier members of Meteor City and the Kakin queens.

She colors as Gon's eyes land on her.

Killua gasps.

And Gon knows. He's not even sure how he knows. Maybe it was Killua's gasp, but Gon's not an intuitive person. But here, still, he knows.

"Mom?"

Raissa approaches, tentatively. Her hair is the same dark green, her eyes a similar oval. "Gon?"

"…Mom?" Gon isn't sure how he feels. He doesn't want to betray Mito.

Raissa presses a gloved hand over the ragged lace of her bodice. Her voice sounds brittle. "Gon?"

He draws back, and so does she, as if afraid.

"You can just say it," Ging says with impatience. "Say 'yes.'"

She falls quiet, displeased by his interruption.

"I love you," Raissa whispers instead.

Gon starts.

She kneels before her son, too emotional to cry. "I never wanted to give you up. It was – I was a tenacious girl, who got herself into trouble too young, and my family would have starved if I'd kept you."

Her voice darkens. "I thought – I always hoped Ging would have loved you, if not me. Because you were his son."

Gon hesitates. He wants to say Ging did.

But Ging didn't, and he doesn't.

Raissa's hand moves to slap Ging, but she stops herself. Instead, her hands encircles Gon, pulling him towards her in a rough embrace. "I had all these things to say and I've rehearsed for years and I've forgotten near everything right now. But – but – you're so much better than I ever imagined. I – I'm so proud of you, Gon."

Gon begins to sob, and Killua wipes his eyes.

Raissa holds Gon back, examining how her son has grown, how he looks like her and like his father. And yet better – he risked his life for friends, not pleasure or adventure or mischief. "I'm so proud of you."

Gon cries now because he never knew what he wanted before. He thought he wanted Ging, but he didn't. He wanted his parents' love.

"I'm so proud of you," Raissa repeats over and over, rubbing Gon's back, though her own tears. She even holds out a hand for Killua to join.

Eventually, Ging slips away, an unfixable enigma even now, and Gon cries harder, and his mother, the mother he didn't want to find, still holds him.

"I'm sorry," she tells him. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

The night sky has turned grey with morning again, and Kikyo Zoldyck finally drifts towards the exit.

She's scavenged Silva's ashes into the needle around her neck.

But she's guarded the children until more guards could be found. Some of them reunited with parents or foster parents or siblings. Most, of course, have none.

But they might be okay, if that Valdrada woman and the Kakin queens have their way. If Meteor City changes overnight.

Kikyo knows it won't.

For now, though, she guarded the children. And by that duty, she likes to tell herself she was useful to her own children.

And that's all she really wanted for the time being. That, and one more thing.

"You saved me, putting me in that circus." Kikyo stares stiffly at Feitan and Machi, who guard the door of the Hall lest any idiots try to stir up trouble.

"It wasn't our idea, and certainly not for you," Machi informs her bluntly. "You've been  _evil_  to your kids."

"They turn out well," Feitan says, throwing a fond glance towards Kalluto, who chats excitedly with a freshly awakened Nanika and Alluka. "Not by you. Or Silva."

Kikyo quiets, watching the three children.

Kalluto is quite animated. That's right; Kalluto always loved being forced to stay up all night.

"Where will you go from here?" Machi asks after a moment. She hates feeling pity for this woman, yet she does.

"There's no home for me, is there?" Kikyo laughs sadly.

"No, but you can make one." Nanika turns to them, as if she's heard the entire conversation. "That's what Alluka told me when I first came to Kukuroo Mountain."

 _We'll make this your home_. Silva smiled at her. She as still burdened with a sagging stomach from birth in a slum a week ago. Yet she gazed up at the mansion in which her new husband lived.  _You'll never have to return to that city again._

"I see." Kikyo swallows. She turns back to Feitan. What can…what can she say?

She's a teenager, pinning down this assassin three times her size, forcing him to understand her, to feel all her pain, to feel what assault and slavery feel like.  _Let's start at the start, shall we?_

She'll start at the start again, she decides.

"Did you know…your birthday…is August 1st?"

And then she leaves, because she doesn't know what else to say, at least not right now. Someday, she may return.

Kikyo walks off, illuminated against the raw sunrise.

* * *

Kurapika watches the latest group of citizens they've allowed into the hall. The elders' families went first, to retrieve the bodies, though no one will claim Bizeff. And now the relatives of the missing ants have come.

In particular, the scrawny man who is no less shaggy than when they first met, though his color is less pale and his cough dissipated.

The man staggers up to a young female ant who lies with her a head at ninety degrees. Sobs wrack his body. "You're back, you're back, you're back!"

"Daddy –"

"It's okay, you're beautiful," the man says, squeezing his daughter close.

"I promised him," Kurapika tells Chrollo. "He was the first person I met who lived here. I promised him we'd find his daughter."

Tears run down his cheeks. "I saw this city, Chrollo, and it's so much more and so much worse than I knew."

"You could say that about many things in life," Chrollo muses. He offers Kurapika a pointed smile.

"Like you?" Kurapika teases.

"I was thinking you, but sure, I suppose. Me too." Chrollo runs a hand through his hair.

Kurapika sighs, serious once again. "I'm sorry about your book."

"The good news is Tserriednich hasn't regained his powers. They've simply vanished." Chrollo sighs. "Nanika thinks I should learn how to invent my own powers, and keep them in a book."

"Yes, I suppose we'll both need to develop new nen abilities," Kurapika says. "Since my masochistic tendencies ought to be tempered."

"Another thing we can do together?" Chrollo raises an eyebrow.

"I fancy the idea of staying here. Until Raissa's government is settled, at least."

"Good. I'm not requiring it for any members of the Spider, but I suspect most will be here the next few months." Chrollo's countenance alights. "I always enjoyed having the entire troupe together."

"I would like to get to know my fiancé's family better, too." Kurapika smiles. He still blushes at the word fiancé, a habit Chrollo hopes never changes.

Unless it's that Kurapika blushes  _more_  at the word husband. Chrollo shall accept that.

Chrollo wraps an arm around Kurapika's waist and pulls him closer.

After a minute, Kurapika finally gathers his courage to speak his thoughts.

"Would you like to see me with a tattoo?" Kurapika glances towards Chrollo. "I was thinking about a twelve-legged Spider."

Chrollo's eyes shine. His hands settle along Kurapika's arms, drawing him closer and closer, but to Chrollo, Kurapika will never be close enough. But he's happy to spend a lifetime chasing that.

"As long as you still have a ring on your hand."

Kurapika smooths Chrollo's hair back from his face, the way it was when they first met, as vigilante and thief, as avenger and villain, as murderer and murderer. He presses his forehead against the cross on Chrollo's forehead, and seals their latest deal with a kiss.


	49. Epilogue: Where We Go

**Epilogue**

**Where We Go**

**We have three more side-stories after this. The Phoito Wedding, the Machitan birth, and a five-year timeskip.**

"Hey, Kurapika! Catch!"

Kurapika's eyes pop open just in time to be smacked in the face with a bottle of sunscreen. "Hey!"

"Sorry," says Gon meekly. Killua just grins, as if he isn't sorry at all, and he isn't.

"Leorio said you have to use more, or your tattoo will fade," Killua reminds Kurapika.

He's goddamn jealous of that tattoo. Frankly, he can't wait to get one and scare the hell out of Illumi.

Kurapika chuckles as he picks the bottle up from the pale, pure sand. The sea sparkles around them, and the air smells of salt and fruit.

Milluki's promised family vacation has finally arrived. Only he's invited far more than his siblings; the Spiders and Hunters have joined the Zoldycks for a special occasion.

"Allow me." Chrollo straightens up beside Kurapika, snatches the bottle from Kurapika's hands. He squeezes the sweet-scented lotion onto his hand and rubs it into the spider labeled  _13_ that adorns Kurapika's ribs.

Chrollo's hands move slowly and rhythmically, enjoying ever moment he can touch his fiancé's skin.

"Leorio says ribs hurt the most," Killua says, eying Kurapika.

"I'm a masochist. You know that," Kurapika jokes, drawing a chuckle from Chrollo.

"Don't make me throw seaweed on you," Gon warns.

"Now, now," drawls Hisoka's voice from behind Kurapika and Chrollo, "that sounds like a fun prank."

"If you throw seaweed on me, I will offer Nanika enough candy that she agrees to feed you to a shark," Chrollo replies.

"By  _stealing_  the candy?" Hisoka teases. "Kurapika, what will you say to your groom-to-be?"

"I would help him," Kurapika says dryly.

Hisoka rolls his eyes. "You would not."

"He's more daring than he appears," Chrollo replies. His hands linger on Kurapika's sides.

Hisoka twitters. "Lucky for you all, I have no interest in tormenting Danchou…today."

"That's a lie and you know it!" Machi calls out from a meter away. She and Feitan sit beneath an umbrella, taking turns cradling two-month-old Paku.

"You always have interest," Feitan adds, attempting to pin a magenta bow to Paku's wispy black-and-pink hair.

"Besides, wasn't one of your conditions for rejoining no more lies?" Chrollo flashes a toothy grin at Hisoka.

Hisoka pouts, though he is…somewhat…maybe…grateful for the spider numbered  _12_  on his arm. Not his back, because this one isn't fake. Illumi would kill him if he faked it again.

"We're back!" Palm's sing-song call breaks into their mock-fight. Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka are sandwiched between her and Milluki, each carrying gallons of ice cream from their cabins, which are just beyond the grassy dunes that embroider the beach.

" _Yes_!" Phinks races back from the volleyball net to pounce on a strawberry cone for his newlywed wife Oito, who rests with Woble near Machi and Feitan.

"Thank you." Oito cranes her neck to peck her husband on his lips. His face reddens, as if the sun has scorched him.

Spider Number 6 has been engaged in a long conversation with Shizuku and her girlfriend, the new Number 9.

Who is none other than Melody, who likes to say she joined both for Shizuku and to ensure Kurapika's continual safety. For now, though, she and Oito are enjoying Woble's obsession with Shizuku's Blinky.

The rest of the volleyball players – Nobunaga, Shoot, Knuckle, Morel, and Knov – amble t over. Chrollo's eyes do not miss how Nobu's hand is entwined with his fashion twin's.

Shoot and Nobunaga. Chrollo rather likes the idea.

After Bonolenov shakes Franklin awake, Franklin drops before Woble and offers her a taste of vanilla ice cream.

"Remember Uncle Franklin gave you this," he says seriously.

Hisoka spins to look at Machi and Paku.

"She too young," Feitan says sharply.

"You're no fun."

"Neither is a sick baby," Shizuku says.

"Why did I join you assholes again – ?" Hisoka is cut off by his answer, which is a pair of cool hands – unusually cool for the beach – resting on his shoulders. Even so, Hisoka winces.

"Hisoka, you're going to need to molt if you don't put on sunblock," Illumi says calmly.

"It's fine," he squeaks.

"Mmm-hmm." Illumi blocks Hisoka's path to the ice cream. "Not until you put on more sunblock."

"You're kidding me."

"He's not," Alluka says solemnly.

"Even octopi and chameleons wear sunscreen," Ikalgo declares proudly, slurping down his ice cream as Meleoron takes savory, delicate lick after delicate lick.

"Lucky for all, I do actually know this." Hisoka grins.

Illumi howls suddenly.

Nanika has casually moved the damp seaweed from the tide-pools into his flawless hair.

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Hisoka snickers as he removes is inflamed, sunburned Texture Surprise. "You can have my ice cream, Nanika."

She cheers, and Illumi stares at his husband. "You tricked me?"

"Uh-oh," jokes Morel. "No couples fighting on the eve of a wedding."

Leorio and Cheadle saunter towards the group. He bends over to wrap an arm around her, and as an awkward third wheel, Hina their new medical apprentice tags along.

"Hina, want to go have hunt for shells with us when we're done?" Canary shoves a chocolate cone towards Hina's face.

She nods with a shy smile. Amane claps her hands.

"Can we come, too?" asks Gon.

"Yes!" Canary grins. She's always wanted to have Killua as her friend, and now she does, and so much more.

* * *

"Let's go swimming, funder of fun." Palm pokes Milluki after they've finished their treats.

"Truthfully, Grandfather released our funds," Milluki admits. "I'm not exactly the funder."

"Yes, but he didn't grant us a vacation. You did," Gon says.

Milluki flushes with embarrassment.

He and the rest of the Zoldycks have found themselves wandering more and more these last few months. Ever since the initial crisis in Meteor City faded.

Sure, Kukuroo Mountain has Mike and Maha and Zeno, but home also has memories they don't need. Not yet. If ever.

Though, to be fair, there are other people there he does need.

But right now they're here, though, too.

Tsubone, who currently indulges in her recently discovered afternoon nap, and Amane, and Canary.

Milluki is too embarrassed to remove his T-shirt, but Palm doesn't seem to mind. She tugs him into the waves, where Alluka and Kalluto wait to splash him.

With his siblings, he feels loved. With Palm, he feels inspired.

Hisoka crashes into the water besides Milluki.

"Did you  _throw_  him?" Kalluto laughs as Illumi bows for his sibling's amusement. Behind them, Machi and Feitan clap.

Finally, every Zoldyck child – whether by birth, by adoption or by servanthood – feels loved.

* * *

Kurapika is awakened in his lonely room whilst the night still settles thick around him. Leorio flicks the lights on and off and on and off and on and off, while Gon and Killua bounce up and down on the foot of his bed.

"You're still children," Kurapika mumbles, stretching slowly.

"Ha." Gon giggles. "Time to get up, lazy."

"Lazy?!" Kurapika scowls, fighting a grin.

His door is shoved open. Melody enters, with a steaming cup of tea. "Perhaps this shall entice you."

"More than Chrollo?" Killua asks quizzically.

"You're the worst friends," Kurapika grumbles, dragging himself out of bed to accept the mug from Melody's hands.

"The worst because we're the best," Leorio insists as Melody departs, shaking her head in amusement.

"You are. Best friends." Kurapika smiles as he sips his tea.

"Drink it fast. We've got to prepare," Killua orders.

"I'm not going to burn myself." Kurapika winks.

"Nanika will heal you." Killua sticks out his tongue.

"The sky is growing grey," Gon says sternly. He crosses his arms. "So drink up."

"Okay, okay." Kurapika laughs and gulps the rest of the tea while his three best friends ransack his closet for the ceremonious robes he hasn't seen in over a decade. How Nanika summoned and created them from his memory, clearer than his mind, he'll never know.

The sky glows coral over the silent, gently lapping sea. The dusty indigo of night lingers over their cabins.

But a two lines of candle-bearing people sprawl across the beach, up until the edge of the water.

Gon, Leorio, and Killua form a circle around Kurapika as he walks between the witnesses. Beyond, towering over everyone. Hanzo, in his formal ninja gear; Biscuit, in her fluffiest pink dress.

Mito Freecs and Raissa Valdrada, acting Elder of Meteor City, arrived last night, from different directions and different motherhoods to Gon, but both grateful for Kurapika's friendship towards their son.

Morel and Knov are next, facing Knuckle and Shoot. Palm and Milluki stand next to Morel, facing Alluka and Nanika. Hina faces Melody, and Shizuku

faces Kalluto. Oito holds Woble, across from Illumi, who grasps Paku. At the end of the line, Phinks and Hisoka face each other.

Kurapika feels their smiles, their love and friendship, as his best friends lead him forward to the edge of the sea.

Cheadle stands there, holding a paper drafted by Shizuku. Bonolenov is by her side, singing a Gyudondond hymn to welcome the hastening day.

And Kurapika waits as Machi's pink hair appears on the beach. Franklin, Nobunaga, and Feitan – the other founding members of the Spider – surround their leader as they escort him through the same procession.

Because their friends are at last united.

Cheadle takes a deep breath. "We are ready."

Kurapika's friends dissipate at the same time as Chrollo's, rejoining the line of witnesses.

Kurapika inhales. Chrollo is dressed in the same rainbowed and gold wedding robe as he, the robes every traditional Kurta wears upon their wedding day.

Chrollo's eyes mist at the sight of Kurapika, who looks almost shy despite his shining scarlet eyes.

He reaches over to fumble for Kurapika's hands. The Kurta's are damp; his are shaking.

Kurapika smiles slightly at the trembles and squeezes his fingers in reassurance.

Bonolenov ends his song, and Cheadle recites the Kurta marriage vows that not even Kurapika remembered. The Hunter library, however, did.

He does, however, recall the response. He and Chrollo answer yes in unison.

_Yes, we will love each other._

_Yes, we will forgive each other._

_Yes, we will serve each other and uphold each other in honor, hope, and kindness_.

As the sun peeks over the horizon, Cheadle concludes, "And thus, by the power vested in me as Hunter Chairman, I declare you two married."

A tear rolls down Chrollo's cheek, sparkling in the orange rays. Kurapika draws him closer, and closer, and closer, as if too happy to believe it.

He presses his lips against Chrollo's, his mouth into Chrollo, the husband he loves.

Behind them, their guests cheer and clap and weep.

"Who's ready to  _party_?" jokes Hisoka.

"It's barely morning," Illumi says.

"Kurta culture demands the drinking commences as soon as the ceremony ends," Killua reminds his older brother.

"You can't drink!"

"Guys, they're still kissing – wait – how – Illumi, we should compete with them –"

Chrollo groans, but he's smiling as he pries his lips away from Kurapika. "In case you forgot, Hisoka, you already had your wedding. In fact, your wedding was exactly the catalyst that precipitated ours."

"I'm gonna remind you of that," Hisoka warns as Chrollo resumes his kiss with Kurapika.

"We're indebted to the clown, aren't we," Kurapika mumbles between kisses.

"Let me forget that." Chrollo grins. He's as carefree as Kurapika has ever seen him.

Chrollo notices a sadness in Kurapika's expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kurapika says, "Only I'm so happy, I don't want this to end."

"We'll gather back together from time-to-time. At least once a year," Chrollo promises. "And in the meantime, we'll see the world you always wanted to see."

Kurapika nods. He and Chrollo just spent last month burying Pairo's eyes and visiting his now-forgotten village. It had been made into apartments, and Chrollo held Kurapika as he wept – with indignation, and with relief.

His past no longer chains him. His clan no longer haunts him. He's free to fill his childhood heart's desire.

"That sounds good."

Chrollo nods. The more time he spends with Kurapika, the more his ghosts have faded. Kurapika is a whiff, a horizon, of freedom. "After all, where we go is up to us."


	50. Side One: This Time

**Side One**

**This Time**

"You sit there and let us wait on you." A heavily pregnant Machi points at the rickety chair in the threadbare room beneath the lone church in Meteor City. "Your  _Majesty_."

"I'm giving up all that royalty nonsense." Oito smiles, even as she sinks into the chair.

"Pish posh. You're the bride. You're queen right now, and you'll always be queen in Phinks' heart." Machi puts her hands on her hips. "I'm huge and pregnant and riddled with hormones. Don't argue."

"I wouldn't dare," Oito says dryly.

Shizuku laughs. She, Machi, and Melody wear matching lavender dresses. Oito's dress is short and white and lacy, simple yet pretty.

"Danchou said to give you one gift before the wedding," says Melody, fussing with the red ribbon in Woble's hair. Machi, meanwhile, begins to comb Oito's dense curls.

"Oh?" Oito raises an eyebrow.

Machi and Shizuku exchange grins.

Shizuku holds out a beautiful garnet necklace.

Oito's hand covers her mouth. "Is –"

"I believe we stole all your jewels before your last wedding." Machi waves her hand. "Well, Shizuku and Melody weren't members yet. But I was."

Oito shakes her head. "I told him that when we first met. And so Chrollo hunted down a piece… Well, I suppose this is the start of a much better wedding and a better marriage."

"Oh, for sure." Shizuku chuckles.

"You know, I was going to put your hair up, but it looks lovely free," Machi muses as she fastens the necklace around Oito's slender throat.

"I like it." Oito peers at herself in the mirror Shizuku holds up.

She looked like a doll last time, in a corseted gown that weighed more than she. This time, she's loose, comfortable, and free.

The last time, the entire royal family of Kakin was in attendance. Most of the family looked pained or bored; Sevanti glared at her. Oito hadn't cared, because she was important enough to have snagged the king.

This time, only thieves and assassins and hunters will attend.

And yet, she couldn't be happier. She's not worried about stumbling, or whether she can keep her husband's attention, or feasting on her own celebrity.

She feels peace.

* * *

"Take care of her," Oito orders sternly.

Illumi nods, eagerly accepting the toddler who tugs at his braided hair – no doubt Hisoka's doing.

"Uncle 'Lumi," Woble chirps, clinging to him. Illumi shivers in delight.

"That's right. I'll see you in a few minutes, okay?" Oito blows her daughter another kiss before Illumi disappears into the church.

"Ready?" Chrollo appears, and Oito laughs nervously.

"I was ready yesterday."

The doors swing open. Sunlight filters through the cracked windows; dust from years of neglect glitters in the air. The scent of moist wood is their only incense.

And on the worn, scratched pews, not a single seat is left untaken.

Oito's mouth drops. Meteor City more filled than she anticipated.

"Go," Chrollo whispers to the two flower girls, dressed like lilies in the spring.

Nanika and Alluka dance down the aisle first, sending the petals Nanika created swirling around the attendees.

Nobunaga offers his arm to escort Shizuku next. His eyes are already bloodshot from crying, a fact that prompts Shizuku to giggle. And that giggle, unfortunately, reminds her of the lump in her own throat.

Kurapika straightens his suit before Melody links her arm with his. The eyes of both her former bodyguards turn to look at her once more, softening with recollections of their beginnings, awed by their culmination in the present.

At last, Feitan walks Machi, the pregnant Maid of Honor. He keeps his eyes on her every step, as if every glide of their feet is its own adventure.

And then Chrollo extends his hand to Oito.

She accepts, and they enter the aisle.

Oito gasps.

Phinks is dressed in dazzling white. His eyes pop when he sees her. Sweat beads his forehead. He's trying to smile, but his cheeks are already slathered in tears.

Lucky for her, she doesn't need a turn of lips to understand his smile.

Only then does Oito notice that the entire queendom of Kakin stands there, princes in to – even Benjamin, though not Tserriednich.

And this time, they all beam at her.

"Because you gave us hope," Duazal whispers, just loud enough for Oito to hear over the gentle folk song Bonolenov sings. A popular song for those in Meteor City, instead of the stiff church compositions she's familiar with.

The commoners of Meteor City stand beyond the queens, mixed with the surviving families of the elders. In the far corner, a small figure hides herself, her face covered by her hair instead of her visor. She is surrounded by the children she relates to all too well. The children she's tentatively begin working with.

Kikyo.

Oito is glad to see her, and gladder still that this woman hasn't bothered her children.

Cheadle, Leorio, and the Hunters stand near the front. Franklin bawls besides them.

Hisoka and Illumi, too, with Milluki and Palm. Gon and Killua. Kalluto waits at the edge of the pew, ready to spring forth with the rings he bears.

At the altar, Raissa Valdrada beams. Another woman leader inspired by Oito's revolution, even if Oito never intended so.

But the only person that matters to Oito, right now, is Phinks.

* * *

Phinks spins Oito around and tilts her backwards to seize her lips. The church erupts in applause, and Oito smiles up at him.

She's never felt healed in a church. But this time, she does.

* * *

The circus makes for a fun venue, even if Leorio should never have been designated DJ.

"You'll never lead the Hunter Association after this!" Cheadle shakes her fist at him later at night, and Oito shakes her head.

"Are you glad the queens came?" Phinks asks, looking at her anxiously. "I said they could."

"I…am honored." Oito wipes her eyes, adjusting Woble, who sits on her mother's lap and inhales more wedding cake. "I thought they would have been to busy setting up more supply runs to the Ai."

"They view you as family, too. Just like us." Phinks's cheeks hurt from smiling. The good kind of pain.

He squeezes her thick, wild curls. "Should we leave soon?"

Oito nods, a faint blush on her cheeks. The Troup has compiled enough money to purchase them the loftiest hotel, by Meteor City standards. By Kakin standards, Oito's sure she would have been repulsed.

"Woble…are you ready to stay with Uncle Kurapika?" Oito asks, waving to Kurapika and Chrollo.

Woble nods as the two men approach.

"Don't worry." Kurapika grins. "We're going to have lots of fun, aren't we, Woble?"

Woble chirps in response, and Chrollo pats the baby's head. "Say good night."

"Bye-bye. Mommy, Daddy." Woble waves as Phinks and Oito leave.

Phinks finds himself weeping again.

* * *

"Aren't I supposed to carry you?" Phinks asks tentatively as he unlocks their door.

Oito blinks. Nasubi definitely hadn't cared about anything besides bedding her, and Nasubi was, well, awful. She has no idea what people are really like.

So Oito bats her eyelashes. "You can, if you like."

"I do." Phinks grins and sweeps her into his arms. He carries her across the threshold into their room, which is covered in arabesque wallpaper and peeling gold trimmings. A white canopy bed lies in the center, old but clean, a finer bed than Phinks has ever slept in.

Oito takes his face in her hands and draws his lips down to hers. He deepens their kiss, as the hunger in his lower parts battles the fear he has of disappointing her.

"Hey." Oito whispers as he lays her on the bed.

"Hey yourself." Phinks stutters. She's so small. She's a queen. And he's a thief.

Those wise, kind eyes smile straight into his soul. "Don't be nervous."

"Nervous? Me?" Phinks scoffs, stifling a laugh.

Oito shakes her head with amusement and decides to move things along. In one smooth tug, she's removed her lace dress to reveal rather scanty, elaborate lingerie. Pink.

Melody had planned well when she said it was easy to remove. Oito jots a mental note to thank her.

Phinks squeaks.

"Is this okay?" Oito asks, covering her body with her hands.

Phinks nods, mouth dry.

Her hands guide his, pulling off his shirt, investigating every muscle on his large chest, removing his pressed pants. Franklin had insisted that he couldn't get married without pressing his pants, to Phinks' bewilderment.

"Are you afraid of breaking me?" She teases when they're just in underclothes.

"Y – Yes." Phinks is not refined. He's a thief who follows his heart. He's not a virgin, and neither is she, but he's never really – really  _cared_  before. What if he's horrid, and rude, and she regrets marrying him?

"I love you," she says, lying back and guiding him atop her.  _I trust you_. "Besides, if I didn't reject you for murder, why would I reject you for bad sex?"

Phinks chortles. "You're not wrong."

"Not to mention it's hard to be worse than Nasubi." Oito winks.

Phinks's fingers dance between to her hips. "I hope you never have to fake pleasure again."

"I'm happy just to be with you." Oito blushes as she and Phinks finally begin to consummate their love.

In the morning, Phinks awakes to Oito tickling his chest as sunlight tickles his eyes.

"I love you," he breathes, excited for thousands of mornings to come.


	51. Side Two: The Arrival of Pakunoda

**Side Two**

**The Arrival of Pakunoda**

**Credit for some of the hisoka-machi banter goes to Hamliet.**

**Also. One. More. Chapter. :D**

"Excellent, Chrollo." Palm lifts her thick hair off her neck to alleviate the afternoon heat. She watches calmly as Kurapika is teleported across the dusty, unpaved street.

Chrollo's eyes glow. He's no longer teleporting on a stolen ability; now, he's developing every talent on his own. Or trying to, at any rate. He's always been a quick learner.

With a new book, of course.  _Inspiration's Secret_.

He may have conjured an image of Kurapika on the cover.

Kurapika shakes his head from where he lies sprawling across the road, adjacent to melted plastic and sticky flies. "You're enjoying this."

"I am," Chrollo simpers, prompting Kurapika to send a conjured key flying towards his throat. He dodges. "And here I thought the key was for freeing others."

"I can turn it into a weapon," Kurapika teases. His key, his newest nen, can release anyone from any bond or chains or even curses.

Palm rolls her eyes. She's been training these two, and Gon in separate lessons, on regaining nen after losing your abilities. All she has to offer is her experience after capture by the Ants – more often than not, she feels inadequate. But her pupils seem to encourage her.

Knov offered her this job. He told her she was a fellow tutor instead of a student now. And though she's no longer obsessed with him, Knov will always hold a soft space in her heart.

"Hey, hey." Chrollo whistles behind Palm.

Oito and Phinks stroll towards the barely-standing house the troupe has stayed in for the last few months. Well, except Oito and Phinks, who have been on their honeymoon for the last week.

They wear matching silver bands around their fingers, and Woble clings to Phinks' neck. Oito's face is mildly tanned from sunlight, and Phinks is mildly pink with a sunburn.

"Welcome back," Kurapika says, waving towards Woble. "How was the island?"

"Quite beautiful." Oito beams, squeezing Phinks' palm. "We missed you all, believe it or not."

"Aw, Phinks too?" Chrollo winks at him.

"Shut up, Danchou." Phinks snorts.

"They're back!" shouts a voice from inside. The Zoldyck family – even the so-called 'psuedo-family' from Machi to Hisoka and Gon – emerges from the inside of the house. Alluka waves eagerly. Even Hina shyly appears.

The Spiders appear after behind them.

"How's are you feeling, Machi?" Oito greets the round-stomached woman.

"Oh, you know." Machi waves her hand. She slouches against the wall.

"I do," Oito says sympathetically.

"Allow me to quote her," Hisoka says. "I can't wait for Oito who understands to come back. So I can bitch to her. I think Melody is getting tired of it."

"You heard that?!"

"It's Hisoka," Kalluto says dryly.

Machi shakes her fist before pouting. "I fucking hate being pregnant."

"Your baby's first word had better not be 'fuck,'" Shizuku says.

"On the contrary, it had better be," Hisoka interjected, drawing a horrified gasp from Illumi. Though, to be fair, Illumi is more horrified by the laughter stemming from every single one of his younger siblings.

"Shut up, you." Machi sighs.

Oito gives her a sympathetic glance. "I remember."

"Ankles swollen, bloated, ready to pop out this kid like a pimple," Machi grouses.

"Your ankles bother you again?" Feitan scuttles over. "Sit down. I'll rub."

"Let's all go inside," Chrollo says as Franklin scoops Machi in his arms to carry her inside.

"Put me down!"

"You deserve caretaking," Oito calls.

"Ugh." Machi settles on their threadbare couch as Feitan begins massaging her ankles. Her eyes soften. "Thank you."

"Where's Nobu?" Phinks asks.

"He went out to get Machi the dates she was craving," Bonolenov says.

"And to call his boyfriend, no doubt," Shizuku puts in.

"Ah, they're still gone?" Oito only heard snippets – that Morel, Knov, Shoot, and Knuckle, along with Cheadle and Leorio, had been called away to handle Pariston's extradition to the Hunter Association. Kurapika declined, despite his position among the zodiacs.

"Yep. Consequently, I have vowed not to go into labor this week," Machi affirms, drawing a snicker from Phinks.

Oito notes with some concern how swollen her friend's ankles have become, and the way her skin squishes under Feitan's soft ministrations.

"Anyhow, tell us about your trip," Palm says, wrapping an arm around Milluki's shoulders. His cheeks redden – he's not used to her attention, but he rather likes it.

* * *

"I have returned!" Nobunaga calls a few minutes later.

"Oh, thank God." Machi calls forth a nen stitch to pluck the package from Nobunaga's hands.

"You're supposed to conserve energy," Killua says.

Machi pouts, and Oito swears she's covering a grimace. "It's a treat. I used to sneak dates all the time as a kid. Of all people, you and Gon should be on my side. You two sneak enough food to feed a family."

"I'm on your side," Kalluto assures her, and Machi brightens.

"Good." Machi offers him a date. "Then I'll share with you."

As the afternoon wears into evening, after a dinner prepared by Palm and Melody, Oito and Phinks venture upstairs to tuck Woble into her crib.

And Melody's eyes continue to flit to Machi.

By the third time Hisoka has caught Kurapika staring at Melody staring at Machi, he grows suspicious.

"Melody, you're subtle, but your Chain Bastard friend sure ain't. What's up with Machi?"

Kurapika gulps.

"Pre-labor contractions," Machi says quickly.

"They've been coming regularly for three hours," Melody says, a gentle, quiet dispute that arouses Machi's ire. How dare Melody disagree that nicely.

Feitan grips her hands. Kalluto touches her belly, and his eyes widen. Machi refuses to so much as make a face.

"Machi, are you okay?" Hisoka asks, sidling closer.

He gasps as water begins dribbling down Machi's legs. The entire room stills.

"I'm fine." Machi replies stiffly.

"She didn't say fuck you. She's dying!" Hisoka jumps.

"I am not! I'm having a baby, that's all!" Machi throws a fist towards Hisoka.

"Now?!" Nobunaga shrieks.

"Cheadle isn't here," Shizuku frets.

"I'm fine! I took a vow –" Machi yells, but her voice is cut off by another pang.

At the sight of her clearly in pain, Feitan is frozen, and Kalluto about to cry.

"Call – call Leorio!" Gon stammers to Killua.

"Call  _Cheadle_. She's the full-fledged doctor," Alluka corrects.

"Stop." Chrollo commands. His voice, though as pleasant as always, still knifes through the room.

Everyone pauses, and looks back towards Danchou.

He points to the entrance, where Oito and Phinks stand. "Let's listen to the woman who's experienced it before."

Oito looks around the chaotic room, jaw slack with disbelief. "Illumi, I expected better."

"I have a weakness," Illumi says, pointing to his laughing husband. Is that a joke? That's how jokes work, right?

"Obviously." Oito rolls her eyes. "Shizuku, escort the useless ones to the kitchen. By that I mean everyone except Feitan."

Kalluto breathes a sigh of relief. He waves to Gon and Killua. "Help me drag Hisoka."

"I can manage that." Nanika snaps her fingers, and Hisoka vanishes from the room.

"Hey!" he yells from the kitchen.

"Stay there!" Alluka shouts back.

Machi closes her eyes. Acute misery strains her face.

"Feitan, carry Machi into her room. Chrollo, stay with us in case Hisoka comes back. Melody, keep Feitan from losing his shit more. Kurapika, Illumi – you both said you had experience. You come too." Oito huffs. "Franklin – and  _Phinks_  – I'm counting on your maturity. Keep our friends in the kitchen calm."

"Anything we can do, we'll do," Franklin promises. Phinks merely nods in awe of his new wife.

"Palm?"

"Milluki and I will keep an eye on Woble," Palm assures Oito, who smiles gratefully.

* * *

"Lay her down." Oito pats the bed as Illumi locks the door behind them with one of his needles – another barrier against Hisoka or any anxious troupe member.

Alarm sprinkles across Chrollo's face as Machi's expression contorts. A vein throbs in her forehead.

"I'm fine," she seethes, though no one believes her.

"Here." Kurapika summons Holy Chain and presses it to Machi's forehead. He only recalls what his mother used to do for villagers, and that one time his little sister accompanied her and described the scene for Kurapika. But still, that's better than nothing, right?

Her muscles visibly relax. "Ah – ha."

"I can't believe," Feitan grouses, "I'm grateful you're using your chain on my wife."

Kurapika smiles grimly. Holy Chain is the one nen ability he's maintained, whose strength he's honed.

"Wife? So you finally signed Shizuku's paperwork?" Oito teases. "While I wasn't around?!"

"Fei didn't want to wait," Machi says with a slight grin. She grinds her teeth. "And don't worry, husband. I can still kick Chain Dude's ass."

"Oh," says Feitan, "I know you can."

"He'd probably let you," Oito says simply, drawing a scowl from Machi.

"Keep your chain on her," Melody says, and Kurapika nods.

* * *

Illumi frowns as the contractions increase in frequency and discomfort. He remembers Tsubone – whom he's texting – helping Mother with Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto.

But now Tsubone asks a question he isn't sure the answer to. So he reaches his hand towards Machi's abdomen.

"What are you –" Feitan is cut off by a firm glance from Oito.

Machi isn't sure what he's feeling for, but her anxiety begins growing. "Illumi?"

"I think it is breech," Illumi says, as calmly as only he can be.

Chrollo blanches, Kurapika bites his lip, and Oito makes no movement at all.

"How bad?" Feitan demands.

"Highly dependent on the circumstances," Oito says, recalling her own pregnancy, and how Unma had maneuvered Woble so that she would not be breech. But that had been before labor, not during. "It's a complication, but not entirely uncommon. Let's not rush around yet."

Machi tries to laugh, but she looks increasingly ill.

Hours have passed, and even Hisoka is no longer pretending to be anything but worried now.

* * *

Hina sniffles.

"What's wrong?" Alluka sits besides the teenage ant.

"Just – remembering. The Queen died. Having the King." Hina shivers. "I don't want that to happen to Machi."

Kalluto looks ill at the thought. And he tenses, ready to rush the room. Phinks eyes him, ready to stop his assault.

"It won't," Gon says forcefully. "Machi is strong. Killua, remember when her abdominal muscles entrapped your punch?"

Killua snorts. "I do."

"When was that?" Hina sounds amazed.

"Back when we were enemies," Gon begins.

* * *

"Can Nanika help?" Oito asks.

"Probably. But it's a bit different than healing - it'd be highly experimental," Illumi says.

"Let's try something easier first. Can you try using your chain?" Chrollo asks Kurapika. His face is pale. He doesn't know if he can bear the thought of this not ending happily.

"I – I don't know if it works like that…" Kurapika stammers.

"You might as well try," Machi growls. "Or I'll make you."

"I'm glad you're still feisty." Kurapika removes the chain from her forehead, intending to press it against her lower abdomen.

"Machi?" Feitan says sharply as Kurapika reaches over.

Kurapika spins around to see Machi's muscles tense. Her eyes roll back in her head.

"Machi!" Feitan screams, lunging forward. Melody no longer holds him back, as Illumi rushes out the door.

Gon opens his mouth to begin his story for Hina's question, but the door opens, the door to Machi's room, at long last.

Illumi flies out. There is no smile. "Nanika!"

"Big brother?" She stands ready.

"Get Cheadle here now." He knows, he knows he's giving an order, he knows that Killua didn't want Nanika to help with this because she deserves rest, but Illumi also hopes that Nanika trusts him enough to understand he wouldn't order unless they were in an emergency.

Nanika nods. Her nen swells for five torturous seconds. And then Cheadle and Leorio stumble into the room.

"The hell?!" Leorio exclaims. "We were in the middle of – "

"What's wrong?" Cheadle interrupts.

Illumi hauls Cheadle into the kitchen before anyone can ask another question.

* * *

Cheadle gasps at Machi's unconscious state, which is no longer seizing so long as Kurapika holds Holy Chain against her. "Illumi, your needles."

Her nen finally activates.

Medicine. She conjures medicine. Chrollo will envy her ability as soon as Machi is no longer ill.

Cheadle hooks a package of fluids to Machi's vein. "This is eclampsia."

"How bad?" Feitan demands, trying not to shake. Melody holds him upright.

"The baby is breech, too," Oito says.

"Okay." Cheadle sighs, declining to answer Feitan. "I think we should do this the hard way. Chrollo, your Benz knife isn't poisoned right now, is it?"

"No." He hands it to her without question, heart sinking.

"Kurapika, keep your chain on her so she doesn't feel anything. Melody, hold Feitan." Cheadle presses the knife against Machi's abdomen. "Illumi, keep pushing more of that magnesium solution into her."

"At least – let me hold her," Feitan begs through his tears. "Please."

She nods, moving so that Feitan can touch Machi's shoulder watch his child's birth.

Blood pools around Machi's midsection, the stomach he had covered with kisses just this morning. And then Cheadle's hands are inside, inside Machi, pushing aside what looks like intestines.

He knows every organ, as a torturer. He just never wanted to see the organs of the person he loved. Feitan has to wonder, once again, if this is his fault.

Cheadle's arms grasp a bloody, whimpering mess.

A mess that is making its own noises. Feitan starts as Cheadle pulls.

Chrollo grabs his knife and pushes it into Feitan's hands.

He hesitates. It seems wrong, to cut the cord when Machi is still unconscious, medicated by Cheadle's IV and Kurapika's chain.

"She'd tell you to 'hurry up and fucking cut it," Kurapika whispers. Cheadle continues to dig in Machi's abdomen, pulling out a bloody sack.

Feitan's face crumples again, and he immediately severs the cord, finalizing their child's birth.

Which reminds him – he looks closer.

"You have a beautiful girl," Cheadle says.

Tears stream down his face.

_Machi, wake up._

_Her wispy hair is pink and black_.

They used to argue over who she'd resemble. Now they know – both.

_Machi, wake up._

_Her eyes are almond, like mine, but blue like yours_.

"Machi, wake up," Feitan manages, holding this precious, precious human to his chest.

A hand lands on his shoulder. Danchou, crying himself, proud of him. And proud of Machi. And worried for them both.

"She'll recover easier now that the baby's out," Cheadle assures him. "She'll be okay."

"What's her name?" Illumi asks.

Feitan's voice cracks. "Machi, wake up – Paku's here."

* * *

"Really, it's not fair. That name was a kick in the feels," Nobunaga complains to Shoot. They stand with Morel, Knov, and Knuckle, by the door of Machi's room.

"It's perfect," Chrollo declares, smiling at the baby girl in Kurapika's arms.

"I knew about the name," Kurapika admits, blushing.

" _You_?" Phinks demands.

"We didn't want it to be awkward." Machi's voice, though weak, still commands the room. "So we talked."

"And swore him to secrecy," says Kalluto.

"You knew, too?" Illumi is faux-outraged. He finds anger difficult to maintain when there are babies around.

"Kalluto is our firstborn," Feitan shoots back.

"He's your brother, too…" Alluka wrinkles her nose as the room laughs.

"Well, I for one am glad you saved labor at least until we returned," Oito says. "I'm not sure Phinks could have handled missing this."

"Yeah, great timing to get eclampsia and labor," Machi jokes.

"The important thing is you're okay," Palm says.

"True." Machi holds out her hands, and Kurapika dutifully passes Paku back to her mother.

At the edge of Machi's bed are gifts upon gifts, including a stuffed dog from Knuckle, music from Melody, a book from Chrollo, and a Kurta outfit from Kurapika.

"Woble's going to be a great big sister to Paku," Oito says. "I am sure."

Phinks nods vehemently. He already bought Woble a picture book about big sisters while they were away.

"We are one big family, aren't we?" Feitan looks around the room, from Hisoka and Illumi and the Zoldycks, to the Hunters, to the Spiders, to Kalluto, Paku, and Machi.

"The best kind, too. A big happy family," says Alluka, clasping her hands together. Gon and Killua and Nanika wrap their arms around her.

"Can I hold her?" Illumi asks.

"You held her just before Kurapika," Machi says, but she obliges.

Illumi takes Paku and deposits the tiny newborn into Hisoka's arms.

"Subtle," Killua says wryly, drawing a glare from Illumi. But, of course, Illumi secretly cherishes every brotherly taunt.

The clown gulps, as if he's unsure what to do. "Well, she certainly – uh – she certainly takes after Feitan in the height department."

His joke comes out thin and desperate. The baby stirs, and Hisoka flinches. He ducks his head away from the view of the others in the room.

"I do declare," Morel says, "Hisoka is crying."

"I am not." Hisoka raises his head to blink back the tears in his eyes. "See?!"

"Hisoka cares about us after all," Gon says.

Hisoka scowls at the grating  _awssss_ that punctuate the room. So he does the only thing he can. Nen.

"What a pitiful distraction." Chrollo rolls his eyes at the conjured book in his hands. "Hisoka, please remove Texture Surprise."

Kurapika chokes. Instead of  _Inspiration's Secret_ , Chrollo's title is now  _Fanfiction's Secret_ , featuring a – a –

a  _very_  scantily dressed Kurapika.

"She's a three days old. Don't you dare corrupt her yet," Hina says, snatching the baby to return to Feitan. Families joke, right? She can joke, too?

Hisoka merely laughs, making no effort to comply.

"Indeed." Machi kisses the top of Paku's head.


	52. Side Three: Why

**Side Three:**

**Why**

_Five years later_

"Hey, they're gonna love you," Chrollo promises, kneeling before their two small boys, who cower before the gate that looms behind them.

He buttons the fluffy coat with Kurta embroidery across the larger boy's chests.

"Are you sure?" asks small, five-year-old Pairo, looking in Chrollo's general direction, but not at his Daddy. Pairo is blind, but oh so insightful.

"Very," Chrollo reassures them.

"Catch me, Daddy!" Uvo, Uvo is six, and he has Down's Syndrome. Chrollo and Kurapika came across him in an orphanage three years ago and couldn't not adopt another child.

"Oof!" Chrollo grabs Uvo, squeezes him tight, and sends him teleporting into Kurapika's arms.

"Hey, there." Kurapika kisses Uvo's cheek.

Their first child, of course, is Hina. The ant exorcist is now a full adult, despite being only as old as Uvo.

A full adult who just passed the Hunter Exam, Chrollo and Kurapika are proud to say. Although, to Kurapika's relief, Cheadle made the exam considerably less deadly during her tenure.

The gate to Kukuroo Mountain slides open. A giant dog hurries up, and Hina immediately throws her arms around it.

"Hello, Mike," Kurapika greets the dog, Uvo in hand.

Chrollo looks around. "We haven't been here since…"

Kurapika nods. "Since before we were married." When Chrollo was kidnapped, and Kurapika desperate to find him.

"Hello, Spider Men," says Canary, hurrying down the pass with her wife of exactly one year by her side. "Are those your two new kids? Oh my god, they're so cute!"

"I'm not cute; I'm handsome." Uvo sticks out his tongue, while Pairo shyly buries his face in Chrollo's neck.

"I beg your pardon, then, little man." Amane bows. "The Zoldycks are excited to see you."

"Are we the last?" Hina taps her foot.

"For today." Tomorrow, the Kakin royal family arrives, along with Raissa Valdrada and Gon's Aunt Mito. Now married to Raissa in a direct repudiation of her cousin Ging. Biscuit, Hanzo, and the rest of the Hunters will join, along with Meleoron, Ikalgo, and Beyond Netero. A reunion for what they survived five years ago.

"Hisoka beat us here?" teases Chrollo.

"Illumi is his husband. He has to be punctual now," Canary explains with a laugh.

* * *

"They're here!" Canary calls, waltzing into the Zoldyck garden.

"Kurapika!" Leorio dashes up to snatch his friend – and by default, Uvo – in a bear hug. His fiancé Cheadle rolls her eyes from where she has been sitting, conversing on medicine with Nanika.

Nanika excuses herself to join Alluka in rushing Hina. The three girls squeal with glee to see each other again.

"Hey, Danchou." Kalluto's voice is deeper, and he's taller, though still delicately slender.

His smile is just as tentative and sweet, though. "I'm finally taller than Machi!"

"That's amazing. Do you tease her? I can help with that," Chrollo says with a laugh.

"All the time," Kalluto assures him, to Chrollo's satisfaction.

"Hey, look who decided to show up. Late." Palm glides into the garden, husband Milluki by her side. Both carry plates of grilled fruit and exotic food.

"That smells good." Pairo, with his unusually sensitive nose, reaches a hand to snatch a peach off the plate.

Milluki freezes. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Pairo," Kurapika says disapprovingly.

"Sorry," says the child, popping the peach into his mouth. "I'm just trying to be a thief like Daddy."

Kurapika eyes Chrollo, who struggles to keep a straight face. "Daddy doesn't do that anymore, Pairo."

"Didn't you just engineer that raid on the mafia caravan? To get medicine to people?" asks Uvo.

"You were not awake while we argued that!" Kurapika exclaims.

"Clearly, they  _wereeeee_ ," sings Kalluto.

"Hina, you said you put them to bed," Chrollo calls.

Hina glances over from her posse with Alluka and Nanika. She laughs merrily. "You should know as well as me they're uncontrollable, Dad."

Kurapika shakes his head, while Chrollo groans.

Leorio waves to their two best friends, and Kurapika brightens.

They hurries over, Gon sipping a milkshake while Killua sips wine. Each wears an engagement ring less than a month old, but they are no longer the most recent news.

* * *

Across the yard, Melody smiles at Shoot and Nobunaga. "Congratulations on your engagement. Between you two, and Gon and Killua, next summer will be quite eventful."

"But really, did you have to get engaged while we were eloping?" Shizuku pouts. "I wanted to see it."

"Serves you right for eloping!" Nobunaga flips her off with a laugh.

"Don't worry." Bonolenov waves his phone. "I've got pictures."

"You better show them all to me." Machi races by, dragged by an unstoppable four-year-old Pakunoda.

Paku waves so hard her entire body sways. "Uncle Chrollo! Uncle Kurapika!"

"Hello, Paku." Chrollo squats down. Uvo waves shyly, and Paku grins at him.

"Uvooooooo. I've missed you." Her hair, black with pink streaks, is done in pigtails, and she wears a scarf like her daddy.

"Hey, Danchou." Machi rolls her eyes good-naturedly. Behind her, Feitan, Phinks, and Oito approach.

Phinks gives a girl with lush black girls a piggy-back. She squeals as he pretends to drop her.

"Woble!" Paku claps her hands. Woble is her best friend, and the two girls always manage more mischief than the thirteen Spiders can handle.

"Shalkor's gotten huge." Kurapika gasps at the two-year-old resting on Oito's hip.

"She has indeed." Oito grins. "Must take after her Papa."

Hisoka sniggers, stepping out from behind a tree. He tiptoes behind Chrollo.

The kid's name gets to him. Shalkor, the kid named for the two members he killed.

It's okay. He's kind of glad, in a way, as if Shalnark and Kortopi have been resurrected by their names.

He taps a finger to his lips. Pakunoda and Woble give no indication that anyone is behind Chrollo.

But Phinks, that traitor, can't hide a smirk.

Chrollo's voice is flat. "He's behind me, isn't he."

"Phinks, you spoiler. No gum for you." Hisoka tosses sticks of gum towards his nieces and nephews.

"Uncle Hisoka, show us another magic trick," Pairo begs. Hisoka uses bungee gum so that Pairo can feel the tricks and experience them himself, instead of just hearing their descriptions.

"Oh, now, will I get a hug for that?" Hisoka tilts his head.

"You'll get a kiss from me." Illumi strolls into sight, holding a blue-haired child, whose face is painted just like Hisoka's. A dark-haired girl bobs beside her father.

"I love you!" The blue-haired mini-Hisoka leaps from Illumi's arms into Chrollo's.

"Ah!" Chrollo feigns a poor grip, but of course he would never drop Jack. He'll hold Pairo and Jack together, no problem.

" _My_  favorite." Diamond, the girl, grabs Kurapika's robes.

"Am I?" Kurapika looks thrilled.

"You really named your kids after cards," Machi says dryly.

"Well, I couldn't very well name them Baha," Hisoka says, sticking his tongue out at Illumi.

"Daddy, I thought we weren't supposed to stick out tongues." Dia stomps her foot and sticks out her tongue at him.

"Hisoka," Illumi says in exasperation.

"Would you stick out your tongue at me, Dia?" Alluka asks.

"Never!" Dia launches herself into her aunt's arms as Alluka smirks at a helpless Illumi.

"You're undoing all of my parenting," Illumi complains.

"Some of that's a good thing," Hisoka pokes Illumi's side.

The assassin actually jumps. And then he laughs. He actually laughs.

Because here, back home, in the place in which he was forced to grow up too fast, Illumi feels reborn.

The dungeon has been demolished, the poisons stocked away – Illumi recognizes the value of immunity, after all. There are more dogs like Mike, and more servants interning in Milluki's burgeoning gaming business.

And no Silva. No Kikyo.

Not even Maha, who finally passed away two years after Silva. Now Zeno lives alone with the servants – though Hisoka now has suspicions about which room Tsubone sleeps in.

Zeno is still an assassin, finds himself taking less and less jobs these days. He spends his time with his grandchildren, when they visit. Between the five Zoldycks and the son of Kikyo, Kukuroo mountain is rarely short on young people.

Even Kikyo occasionally writes letters. Likely because she still derives a thrill from the Zoldyck seal Silva taught her to draw.

She's spent much time in Metoer City, teaching the abandoned, abused children self-defense skills. Illumi and Hisoka visit her often, as does Kalluto, usually with Feitan and Machi. Killua plans to soon, to tell her of his engagement.

Alluka isn't sure. Nanika would, but she feels like she'd rather wait for her twin Alluka. Eventually. They'll see her eventually, and they'll hug, even if they don't have a relationship.

Uvo wriggles out of Kurapika's hands, and promptly grasps Dia's. "You're so pretty."

Illumi whips his head around, and Hisoka's eyes nearly fall out.

Dia squeals with joy. "Daddy, he said I'm pretty!"

"Let's go eat." Paku points to the sweet-scented fruit Palm piles high on the table.

"Okay!" Woble nods, and Chrollo puts Pairo and Jack down.

"C'mon, Pairo. Wanna be my best friend?" Jack hops as he talks.

Chrollo watches them go with a soft smile. Someday their boys will learn the origin of their names. And Paku, too. Will they hate their fathers, their aunts and uncles? Or will they forgive?

They don't know. They can't decide that.

They can only act in a way that shows they've changed. That shows they love each other.

"Don't make me have to watch Illumi threaten your son," Hisoka says casually.

"You as protective of Dia as Illumi," Feitan says, striding over to Machi.

Hisoka shrugs. "Am I? Hopefully the world will never know."

"You saw how protective Chrollo is over the Spiders, and me over my tribe. Is that really a challenge you want to take up?" Kurapika retorts.

"No, I prefer to renew my suggestion from the eve of your wedding. Don't think I've forgotten." Hisoka snickers.

"I have," says Chrollo, at the same time Kurapika and Illumi blurt, "Oh no."

Hisoka seizes Illumi and mashes his mouth against his husband's.

Chrollo's eyes spark. He turns to Kurapika and lifts him off the ground, into his arms. His mouth covers Kurapika's.

And, despite himself, Kurapika gives into this petty fun.

"Hey, Fei? Feitan? We can't let them win." Machi pouts until Feitan begins kissing her, too.

"And here we have the triple contest. We have Hisoka and Illumi in the lead, wrapped in bungee gum," Phinks narrates. "No, wait, Chrollo and Kurapika are hovering! They are above gravity, floating! Can the sheer ferocity of Machi and Feitan overcome this?"

"Ew!" shriek the kids. In unison. Agreeing, for probably the only moment in their lives. Given their parents and all.

Killua sidles up to Gon. "Let's join, too!"

Illumi breaks away, horrified. "Not here!"

"You fool!" Hisoka cries as Killua guffaws. "You made us lose!"

"And there we have it, folks. The conclusion of our kissing contest: Hisoka and Illumi in third due to Illumi's over-protective attitude, Machi and Feitan in second due to a late start, and the airborne Chrollo and Kurapika in first!" Phinks roars.

Chrollo returns them to the earth, but their hearts remain soaring. No longer bound by ghosts or sins.

Kurapika smiles at his husband. Tears shine in his eyes, like diamonds amongst rubies.

"Why are you crying?" Chrollo asks, brushing a finger against his Scarlet eyes.

Why, indeed.

The man before him, the thief, the father, the husband. The friends and family who mill about, bound by less by blood than tragedy and trauma and fierce love. The children whose names set free their ghosts.

They're all why.

**1\. Jack is based on a drawing I saw on Twitter by @adoniszaf. I can't find the link (but will keep searching), but it was a blue-haired Hisoillu child with Chrollo. Freaking adorable.**

**Also, the small fluffy coats idea is from Hamliet.**

**2\. wow. Okay. That's it. It's over. I...love all of you who were so encouraging in your comments, and kudos, and reading this story in general. 3 Thank you *so* much for your support, and I am glad you enjoyed this. Also, the demands for this kissing contest were so high I just...had to include it.**

**On the bright side, I finished before the end of hiatus! Let's all scream over the next chapter together in a few days.**


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